


Lethal Boundaries

by tzigane, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Blow Jobs, Branding, Criminal Masterminds, Domesticity, Emotional Roller Coaster, Grown ass adults, Jim Moriarty is a Little Shit, M/M, Object Penetration, Ownership, Possessive Sebastian, Problematic societies, Sex Is Fun, Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:48:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21596380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzigane/pseuds/tzigane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: Two sets of footsteps, three. The headmistress walking them in, then, one faster, two sets of longer legs, he wasn't sure which gait was his Benefactor's -- loping, or purposeful?Carefully, Jim leaned back against the edge of the wide door that led into the depths of the Centre, waiting. It wasn't entirely surprising to him when the double doors into the foyer parted and the one with the purposeful stride came through, proving himself to be John's Benefactor. He was neatly presented, clearly a man who had an appreciation of his image. Jim couldn't keep from smirking because having John for a Companion would be a bit like having a mongrel pup. Something about him simply lacked fire in Jim's opinion, and so he dismissed the man entirely, turning to see his own Benefactor enter the room.The loping walk had been his. He had his hands tucked into his pockets, a good sharp suit on that he wore like it was a uniform. His hair was shaved short and tight on both sides, longer at the top and brushed back, probably just on the edge of regulation. Sharp eyes, heavily tanned except for his helmet line. He glanced at John and the other man, and then stayed focused on Jim. "Hello, James."
Relationships: Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Lethal Boundaries

When he was eleven, they had come for Miss Vivian.

Everyone at the London Centre for Companions made sad faces, and the Headmistress stoutly upheld the fiction that Miss Vivian would return to continue their lessons as soon as she felt better.

Even then, Jim had known how to dig out information. It was stupid and boring of them to leave their root passwords so easily hackable, but he didn't trust them to tell the truth. _Lies_ were written in the flick of their fingertips, the twitch of their brows, and he had always been able to taste it on them, like feeling colours or automatically knowing the answer to a question without having to make any sort of calculations. It was just something he knew, something that he did, and that was all there was to it.

It had been necessary for him to break into other systems, more secure ones. Bethlem Royal Hospital had excellent security, although naturally that had not been sufficient to stop him. He had seen the records, learned terrible things, and he had determined then that he would never be like Miss Vivian. Whatever it took, he would not spend his days drooling in a room because someone had shoved a stick (scalpel, whatever) into his brain and stirred it around to leave him wetting himself while he sat in a corner and rocked.

That determination had nearly flown the coop somewhere around fourteen. Hormones were, quite possibly, the most wretched thing ever to happen to a person in his right mind. It drove him straight out of it, and that was no sort of exaggeration in Jim's opinion. Controlling his outbursts and inclinations had become a matter of strict discipline, and hiding it became even more imperative. He had bitten the inside of his cheek bloody on more than one occasion in order to keep his head bowed and his words behind his teeth, because he wasn't going to become Miss Vivian.

He wasn't.

It had taken so much work to stay honed and focused and sharp, to bear through practicum -- and then to stay for two years after the standard going home time, for more school, for more practicum, for more screaming rages upon which he had to sit. He wasn't going to be Miss Vivian, even though practicum had been maddening. There was another Companion, blond, massive funny eyebrows, bit stout, who was not the quailing type and Jim kept ending up with him. Similar height, which was madness because from what he could tell of the pictures he had of his Benefactor, the man was 6' 4", probably a hundred and ninety pounds or there about. It was hard to gauge muscle mass from the cut of that uniform, and he'd sent Jim no prettily posed pictures. It seemed as though he only stole pictures that other people had taken, so Jim's collection was quite poorly -- some group photo posing in what Jim only guessed was Somalia, the land stretching out flat and barren behind them, his Benefactor still a lieutenant in that picture, cradling his rifle like a lover. He was leaning back in a chair that was balanced on two legs in the more recent picture, caught in the middle of a card game, smoking. 

Jim knew he was a major, and he was going home that evening, which was excellent because if he had to do one more amateur grappling session with John he was going to bite his ear and force himself on that stupid rugby playing Companion. He was angry and energetic and Jim wanted to _do_ things that would end with him with a stick in his brain.

Christ only knew how his Benefactor would deal with that, but that was something to worry about tomorrow and the day after that. For the time being, there was the ceremony (ridiculous, stupid, and downright appallingly idiotic, because why would someone rather use an object to pop the proverbial cherry instead of their dick? Clearly whatever historical blather they had learned about in their lessons had missed thousands of vital parts, including the epic stupidity of whatever made this ceremony such an amazing event), and then there was Going Home. He would work out the rest after that because his Benefactor was clearly highly trainable. He wouldn't have done so well in the military if he weren't. Obviously that man washed up well, and Jim was looking forward to making him do exactly what he wanted him to do. Whatever that might be. 

He'd never bought into the romance of Going Home. Of course, the man had chosen him, but that was as much like a German Shepherd liking one person more than he liked another. That wasn't to say that his bags weren't packed and he wasn't waiting, but it didn't exactly precipitate nervousness in him like it was drawing out of John.

John was flitting around the sitting room as they sat there with their bags, looking at the windows like a moron. He heard when the door opened in the hallway outside, waiting. Two sets of footsteps, three. The headmistress walking them in, then, one faster, two sets of longer legs, he wasn't sure which gait was his Benefactor's -- loping, or purposeful?

Carefully, Jim leaned back against the edge of the wide door that led into the depths of the Centre, waiting. It wasn't entirely surprising to him when the double doors into the foyer parted and the one with the purposeful stride came through, proving himself to be John's Benefactor. He was neatly presented, clearly a man who had an appreciation of his image. Jim couldn't keep from smirking because having John for a Companion would be a bit like having a mongrel pup. Something about him simply lacked fire in Jim's opinion, and so he dismissed the man entirely, turning to see his own Benefactor enter the room.

The loping walk had been his. He had his hands tucked into his pockets, a good sharp suit on that he wore like it was a uniform. His hair was shaved short and tight on both sides, longer at the top and brushed back, probably just on the edge of regulation. Sharp eyes, heavily tanned except for his helmet line. He glanced at John and the other man, and then stayed focused on Jim. "Hello, James."

Oh, yes. This he could work with and make something. The terrible photographs hasn't captured the intelligence, nor the sheer force of presence. Admittedly he wouldn't be as bright as Jim, but then, who was?

"Sebastian," he drawled, slipping his hands into his pockets. "How good of you to come."

"As if I'd leave you here for another year? No, that's a waste. I only left you here this long because I was at war." He reached for Jim's shoulder, looking at his eyes as if he were appraising them. "Now I'm back for a couple of years, on instructor duty." And he was going to have a quickly restless Benefactor to deal with, because he'd been at one war or another since Jim was three. He'd been at war as long as Jim had been fighting his urges.

At least they would have something of a sort in common. "I suppose you will have brought all of the required items." The idea of being branded as chattel was distasteful to him, but it was part of the process. One thing he had learned quickly was to hide anything that appeared to be resistance to their notions of propriety. He could wait to make his displeasure known.

"And we can discuss it back in my hotel room." He glanced over to the headmistress, and smiled, turning up the wattage slowly. "I'm sorry about not staying for tea, ma'am. But seeing as we'll be back tonight... I'd like to talk with my Companion in private for a while."

That look of disapproval was not unexpected. "Major Moran, you are very well aware of the rules. You may not take your Companion from this campus until after the ceremony, and your time together until then must be chaperoned."

"Dreadfully old-fashioned," John's Benefactor drawled. "Nonetheless, I feel sure that it is for the best."

Oh. Jim did so want to throw things, wanted to smack the idiot in the suit. It was all so very, very stupid, and he bit sharply on his tongue to keep it between his teeth. 

Sebastian tilted his head down slightly, and looked at the headmistress mostly out of the corner of his eye, still focused on Jim. "Oh, come on. I just want to talk to him in private. Discuss the brand. Christ, you can't think I'd do anything to break the rules."

The woman had probably dealt with something like it before, Jim supposed. They couldn't be the first such pair to make the attempt, and she drew herself up sharply. "You may use the Blue Salon. I shall call Miss Evangelista to accompany you."

Bugger.

"Tell her to bring ear plugs, then." It was a polite response, with just an undercurrent of surly that gave Jim a lot of hope. Yes, the army hadn't left the man with much of a sense of chivalry, and there was probably no lurking white knight complex for Jim to deal with which was so much easier than having to disabuse someone of a natural sense of romanticism. 

All for the best.

The headmistress didn't seem best pleased, but it wasn't as though either of them had to give much of a damn about it. They waited patiently until Miss Evangelista arrived, all demure blushes and flustered idiocy. Jim disliked her in particular; she had replaced Miss Vivian, and she was a blithering simpleton, hardly worth bothering himself enough to be civil. At least he could be fairly certain that whatever conversation they had, she wouldn't understand half of what was said.

It was maddening, but everything was just then. They were escorted to the Blue Salon, and his Benefactor did not bother to make small talk with Miss Evangelista. He waved her off even as he gestured to Jim to sit with him on the sofa in the corner. "This is the bloody stupidest thing I've heard of all day. Like I'd really try to do something to my bloody Companion after everything I paid you assholes to do."

Jim couldn't help laughing, full and amused, even as Miss Evangelista flushed and looked away, stuttering some sort of apology. "All of them are afraid you might want to fuck." He had Sebastian's number, he did. He knew it, and knew saying that wouldn't bother him in the least. "And that I might give in, weak-willed as I am."

He looked oddly pleased, watching Jim intently. "Waste of long delayed gratification at this point. Fine. Where do you want your brand, James?"

Difficult to say. He didn't want it, in fact, and he was fairly certain that leeched off of him in the shift of his mouth, the way his brows drew together. "It doesn't matter. What is it?" Please god, let it not be a family crest. How boring.

He looked sideways at Jim, hands moving as if he were outlining the shape. "It's a tiny corgi rampant. We're quite historically loyal to the royal family."

There were no words. He looked at Sebastian, and for the first time in his memory, he had no words. None, because that expression was dead serious, and there were no tells, nothing to say he was lying, nothing to taste on the air, and all he could think was that he was not going to go through life with a fucking corgi burned into his skin. Anywhere.

Perhaps he should be grateful that it wasn't a dachshund. Or a Great Dane.

He felt the horror settle over him for a moment, simmering towards anger before Sebastian went on. "We're actually a direct trace to the original Morain. Irish, but we moved some generations ago. My father has quite the ancestral home, my sister a smaller one..." He cleared his throat, still watching Jim. "And for god's sake, it's a tiger and a spear, not a corgi. I'm going to have to teach you to tell when I'm just being an ass, aren't I?"

That was moderately humiliating, but also interesting. No one had lied to him successfully in a very long time. "That is much more acceptable. Wherever you like. I dislike the notion of being marked visibly." Like a fucking cow.

"It'll take longer. I've brought a fellow in to pen brand you. It's a cauterising pen. On your hip, or...?"

Interesting. Very much so, and he looked at Sebastian, considering the matter. "Depends. Would you like it there or would you prefer to see it when you fuck me?" That was inevitable. Death, taxes, sex. Honestly, most Companions were such willing cows that they went to it like lambs to the slaughter.

Jim planned on taking control of it early on.

"I was considering what you might have the easiest time hiding." The other question didn't seem to faze him in the least. "Are you gay?"

Jim was aware of their particular situation; there was no way he could be unaware. Male Companions were not the norm. It was one of the reasons he was mostly paired with John during Practicum. Aside from the fact that they preferred that the female Companions remain untouched, so to speak, they felt that the males were more likely to accustom themselves and become resigned to their fate.

It was, quite honestly, a crock of shit. It did explain the sheer panic most of the male Companions seemed to feel when the time came. "I can't say that I have a preference except for orgasm." After all. Years of Practicum, hands off policy, cameras in the room. Mostly it made for damp sheets, truth be told. There were ways around it, but most of the time he hadn't thought it worth the effort.

"I am," Sebastian said carefully, "and I enjoy it a lot. Sex, orgasm. But you're intelligent, and mostly I want you as my Companion. Not my fuck toy."

Unexpected plus for some Companions, he supposed, but Sebastian had always been forthright. He talked about good things and terrible things without colour indicating one way or the other in his letters, and Jim hadn't wanted to be hopeful about his arrival. In fact, he still wasn't feeling hopeful so much as pleased that Sebastian was living up to his potential. "Then I expect that we will get along well."

"I'd prefer that. Given that we're stuck with each other for a while." He ran a hand back through his hair. "When do you have to run off and get ready?"

"Whenever they say." For now he quite liked watching his Benefactor. He was clearly uncomfortable, but also accustomed to proper surroundings. It was the situation that bothered him, then, which seemed backwards. It had been obvious that John was the one overtaken by nerves, his Benefactor self-possessed and pleased with himself. Jim couldn't help smiling with pleasure. "We could take tea."

Sebastian glanced at Miss Evangelista. "Can you get that done, then?" If nothing else, they didn't have to listen to the headmistress, nor what the other Benefactor and Companion pair were saying to each other. "Thanks, sweetie."

It seemed to fluster her, but then, so many things did. "I, yes, of course, but..."

His Benefactor might prefer men, but he clearly had no problem whatsoever with charming a woman right out of her skin to get what he wanted. Jim quite liked that about him. "With biscuits."

She might be captivated by Sebastian, but something about Jim had terrified her for quite some time. The way she wrung her hands and stepped towards the intercom was skittish. "I, yes. Yes."

"Thanks." He returned his attention to Jim, and passed him something with a downward turned palm. It felt like a little bit of foil or something, and the motion was quick enough that Jim took it and pocketed it. He could check to see what it was later.

"I don't suppose you have the Object with you." It was idle speculation but he was curious as to what it might be. Miss Evangelista was sitting in the corner, clearly mortified.

"I'm carrying it in my pocket," Sebastian drawled, clearly droll and smirking. Except that after a beat, he reached into his suit jacket, and pulled out what looked like a cigar box. 

Mmm, this was so much fun. The epic boredom of day to day life at the Centre was maddening, and this was something entirely different. It felt like collusion, a bit like committing tiny crimes out of sight, and it made his pulse pick up with excitement. "Show me."

He opened the case, still smiling a wicked smirk as he held it on offer for Jim. And that was the thing about old lines, about the oldest of Benefactor lines. They didn't always compete for the fanciest the way some of the offshoots did. It was plain, polished gemstone or quartz, buffed to a high sheen like glass. "It's sealed in resin, so I couldn't be concerned about sterility."

Nice. Well, he supposed, in any case. If he had to have something shoved into him in front of witnesses, at least it could be something reasonably tasteful and simple enough that it shouldn't hurt. "Acceptable." Quite nicely so.

Tilting his head to the side, Jim looked at him objectively, noting all of the things he liked about him. The photos hadn't captured him all that well. He was attractive in a dark blond sort of way, green-grey eyes, interesting lines on his face. It was just as well that he hasn't made any sort of special plans to run off at first opportunity. This could work out quite well. He hadn't expected for it to work, but he''d always hoped, as much as he ever let himself hope.

"I thought so." The cigar case shut carefully, and was tucked back into him jacket pocket just as tea arrived. "We're going to be staying in a house near the post. I'll get you driving as well, because it's a bit the middle of nowhere."

Driving. Well, that would offer him independence, and that was something he quite liked as a notion. "That would be fine," he replied, scooting forward to reach for the tea tray. Might as well put years of stupid etiquette classes to use.

Sebastian seemed to be watching him as he poured. "I don't plan on keeping you locked up in the house. If you want to work, by all means. I'd like you to work with me, but I'm not sure you'd enjoy shooting things all day."

Hmmm. He could do almost anything. They were all led to believe that they would lead cosseted lives, surrounded by bubble wrap and saved from the harsh realities of life. This was so much more, and he had a greedy heart. "I can't say that I am all that partial to shooting things. Perhaps something else."

"We'll throw some ideas around when I get you home." Sebastian took the teacup when Jim handed it to him, unsweetened. "I need to get a better feel for your interests, and I suspect you need that as well."

"Supposedly, that is what the letters should do -- accustom us to one another." Oh, and he had so often bitten back screaming about the sheer idiocy of that belief. "All I can say is that you quite like guns and have a terrible knack for sending bad photographs."

"I quite like guns and have a knack for sending shitty photos," Sebastian agreed. "And I'll be honest, your letters always sounded like you were sending them censored through the Red Cross."

"No, no, no. Only through the Centre's inspection. They say they don't read them," Jim murmured. "But why else would we need to leave open the envelopes?"

"So you wrote expecting censorship." Sebastian was smiling a little, watching Jim keenly. "Or not wanting to be read. Which I understand."

Yes, he was liking Sebastian more and more, which felt ridiculous and strange. He didn't like people. They were all ordinary and boring and he far preferred maths. Disconcerted, he raised his cup to his mouth and drank his tea to cover it. "Mmm."

Sebastian seemed content to let him have quiet, drinking his tea and taking Jim in with keen eyes. "I know you like math. And you're hiding things. And that's about it, other than your crushing intellect."

Which was fairly accurate, in fact. He wouldn't have been able to hide so much if it weren't true. "A man should have some thing to call his own, even if they are only secrets." Leaning over, he lifted a wafer from the plate and bit it crisply. "I like my secrets."

"I'm sure you do. I'll even let you have a few." And that, Jim supposed, would have to be enough.

* * *

He loathed the parties Benefactors had. He despised them because his father had always commanded his way through life at those same parties. For once, he was sure the older Moran wasn't going to outshine him, and he could actually socialise and drink and look forward to bringing James home. To making him his own, to fucking the shit out of his tight little ass and those too smart brains.

Thing was, being hot had dick-all to do with most of the people Sebastian had fucked. It was a nice addition, but brains had always been his biggest turn on by far. Until somebody was capable of fucking his head there wasn't much point in fucking his body. He just couldn't get off until the mental component was there. Well, he could, but it was more like masturbation than anything useful. Someone less than dangerously intelligent was more like a blowup doll, responsive and clutching around his dick but otherwise uninteresting. James had been smart and frighteningly so as a small child, and now he was all grown up. Sebastian was oddly proud and ready for the night to end. It had been gorgeous, watching him up there. The others had been alternately shy and truculent, one even objecting on the stage, and then there had been Jim. He had sashayed his way over and offered himself up as though he didn't give two damns who saw him, had given everyone a fucking _show_. Sebastian hadn't been able to keep his grin from spreading wide over his face.

That, that was what he had to contend with then he got home. That was what he was taking home and it was all a show. He wanted to peel back those layers, even as he drank a little more and watched Jim receive his pen branding of the tiger rampant with sword. When it healed, it would look as it was supposed to, not some distorted thing. He looked over at Holmes.

His father would have wanted him to be that man -- self-contained, watching as though none of it mattered when it fucking well did. It all mattered; this was the rest of his life, and he didn't need to have a wife and six kids. Holmes would do, eventually, would settle down and do whatever was necessary for his political career. That was what people were supposed to do, if Sebastian's father were to be believed.

Sebastian planned on failing his father's requirements spectacularly. He was proud of Jim's reactions, played out or not, and moved quickly to meet him on the other side of the stage with his cloak in hand as he descended the steps.

"Hello, honey." The timbre of his voice was dark, sounded like sex. Then again, he had probably enjoyed the tiny packet, a bit of lube and a little pill that made sure he wouldn't be shrieking like the redhead had done. Poor sport, in his opinion, letting some fucking Master of Ceremonies hurt a Companion. Jim's eyes were dark, dark brown, but even so, Sebastian could see the dilation of his pupils. "So good to see you."

He slipped an arm over Jim's shoulder, leaning in to kiss his temple as he settled the robe over his shoulders. "You were fantastic. C'mon, let's get you a drink or two before we go home. You've made every other Benefactor here jealous."

Jim tilted back his head and peered up at Sebastian through sparse black lashes, a sly grin sneaking over his face. "They should be. I am, after all, head and shoulders above this lot. You would think after so many years of expecting this, they'd have accustomed themselves to the idea of it."

"Nah. Everyone thinks they're a special fucking snowflake who'll be spared somehow." He just preferred to make his own special snowflake moments, and Jim was making the most of the drug he'd slipped him. "Let's get your ID card done and relax a little."

"Jim Moran, then? How sweet." Sweet, yeah, and those pearly whites were sharp and bright and vicious. Christ, how he had managed to make it through the Centre without turning into one of those mealy-mouthed whining Companions who'd stood on the stage tonight was anybody's guess.

He snorted, and pulled Jim forward. "You're still mine. I don't find much sweet about it."

God, but that look was burning, maybe even a little fucking scary, and that was saying something. "A truth that works both ways, sweetheart."

"True, but you're the one with the corgi burnt onto your hip," he drawled, sitting Jim down in the chair to be photographed.

"Fuck you." It was spoken with genial sound, but it clearly shocked the hell out of the photographer. "And the tiger you rode in on."

"Later, babe. Later." He stepped out of the shot, but was grinning as the photographer, still horrified, took his shot, Jim's smile going even wider. He didn't quite understand the way everybody seemed to react to that; it just made him want to get to the point in their evening when he had Jim to himself and he was dick deep in him.

They hurried up the process just to get it over with, it seemed like, and before long he was presented with all of the proper documents, printed before they had even walked away from the area. Prompt, excellent service in London, he decided as he pocketed the papers and shepherded Jim out onto the floor.

"How long must we stay in order to be polite?" Getting away from the Centre was probably part of that, and it was clear to Sebastian that Jim could put a face to cover just about anything.

"Quick circuit around the place." He shrugged his shoulders as he reached to pluck two glasses of wine from the tray of a circulating waiter and passed one on to Jim without hesitation. He took it, sipped at it genteelly, and then offered Sebastian a look that made promises he was going to take Jim up on.

"Then let's get it done quickly. I'm ready to go."

"I can't wait for you to meet my family in a week," Sebastian drawled, sliding his arm over Jim's shoulders again to start the circuit, looking for people he needed to talk to before they could leave.

Dark brows rose sharply. "So soon? And here I thought we wouldn't get out of bed for two."

"I have no compunction about taking you to family dinner and then back to bed with me," Sebastian countered, waving hello to a passing Benefactor.

Jim hummed an answer and then plastered himself to Sebastian's side. He paused when Sebastian paused, said not a word when he held conversations. The longer they lingered to speak, the more people seemed to find that interesting, although Jim was perhaps a little tipsy from the wine he continued to drink.

It was hard for him to guess, and they politely worked the circle well enough that he was sure his father wouldn't hear badly of him for it. Jim was on his second glass by the time they got to the doors, pulling his keys out of his pocket. "Come on."

Simple enough, and Jim tucked a hand into Sebastian's back pocket. "Finally." As though it had been some terrible suffering for him to wait all this time. Perhaps it was, Sebastian supposed, because he was certainly forward enough.

He made a curious noise as he looked over at Jim, and the hand in his pocket clutched in a way that made him laugh. "Horny little fucker. Just don't distract me while I drive. I love the car too much to crash it." He liked the green sheen of it, had nearly forgotten that it was safely stored, his sister dropping in every so often to crank it and make sure the tires were all right.

Wide dark eyes looked at him and then Jim laughed, expression teasing in a way that implied he knew so much. Fuck, that was gorgeous. "I can't even blow you on the drive?"

"When you see the Audi, you'll be more interested in blowing the car," Sebastian promised, starting down the wide stone steps with Jim in careful tow. His feet sounded light, pattered on the marble as they slipped down the well-guarded stairwell, and it wasn't his imagination that Jim was moving even faster than Sebastian was.

"We'll see."

He was. He was pulling into the lead, and Sebastian was surprised by it as he closed his eyes, taking the last few steps blind before he veered towards where he'd parked. "You'll agree with me."

"Undoubtedly." He was offering Sebastian a smile over his shoulder, teasing, an invitation. "Particularly the closer it gets us to a bed."

"You just want to experience getting off properly in all its glory." He rubbed at his jaw for a moment, turned Jim loose as he gestured to his car. He unlocked the side door, thoughtful as he held it for Jim.

Oh, dirty look, even as he slid into Sebastian's car, and wasn't that sort of fun? "You try four years of fucking Practicum with John fucking Holmes and see how desperate you are about it."

"Not really my type," Sebastian drawled, and then he shut the door to walk over to his side. He slipped in, and didn't waste any time in starting up the car. "I've got a new little place outside of post, not too bad of a drive. Rental though, not really somewhere I want to live forever."

Jim turned so that he could watch, back pressed against the door. Sebastian wanted to reach over to buckle him in properly, but he also liked the way Jim was watching him. "It doesn't matter. I don't care if you have gilded china and proper silver."

"Good. I haven't any of that. I have guns for work, and some out of date furniture." He tilted his head at Jim briefly, and then backed out of the parking space.

He wasn't surprised to find Jim watching him as they drove past the guards at the gates, turning left and heading towards post. It was a steady, considering sort of watching, head tilted to the side, and Sebastian regretted the fact that he had said no to the whole car sex thing. Sooner seemed better, and then he realised that Jim was stroking the cloak away from his skin, pushing it off so that Sebastian could see everything. He liked the look of everything. He could see the freshly charred skin on his hip. He could see his dick, hard and pressed up against his belly. "Christ. How are you even hard after all of that? I thought drugs generally went the other way." Eyes on the road, eyes on the fucking road, god he wanted that, he had that.

The sound of Jim's laugh was low, husky. "Try cameras twenty-four hours a day, only getting off on wet dreams, waiting and learning and being fucking taught to want." His hand dipped down his torso, and he cried out, head knocking back faintly against the glass when his fingers closed around his cock. "Mmmm." Mmm, yes, and he was biting his lip so hard that it had to hurt.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, glad that there wasn't too much traffic to speak of just then. It made it easier, watching Jim, not having to worry as much about who the fuck he might be running into. His hand was on his cock, jacking slowly despite the fact that he clearly wanted to go faster, wanted more, wanted harder. It was taking a hell of a lot of effort and no surprise there. The fact that he was making it just... yeah. They were going to be lucky if he didn't pull into a goddamned hotel and demand the first room they had available.

He could feel his own prick edge past hard and towards titanium as he caught glimpses and snippets of it, eyes on Jim, eyes on the road again. "It's just five more minutes." He wasn't sure why he said it, to Jim or to himself.

"I won't last that long." Maybe it was a warning. Sebastian looked on it as a statement of fact, particularly when combined with the way Jim was struggling to hold himself together.

Leaning over, he grabbed Jim's wrist. He was glad it wasn't that big a car on the inside. "If you come on the seat, I'm making you lick it up when we park."

Breathy laugh, and then Jim shifted, caught Bastian's hand and rubbed against it, just so. "Do you think that makes me less hot? It doesn't."

He turned his hand, a spread of fingers as he squeezed Jim's dick and hoped that no cop car was going to roll up behind them just then. "That wasn't a threat, just a statement of fact."

Jim pushed up into his touch, and he could feel it. The glow coming through the windshield from the street lights revealed the frantic flush creeping up his neck, and those white teeth bit down even harder. Oh, this was going to be utterly excellent. "Nnn!"

"Maybe it's not me you have to worry about keeping us abed for my two weeks leave," Sebastian drawled, sneaking glances that just made him want to do more and more to Jim. He'd get them home. It was that or book a block of hotel rooms, because he was going to make Jim lose control and stop biting his lip. He was going to make Jim _howl_ , and he slid his fingers loose and further down, caressing the weight of carefully shaved balls. He could see Jim hunch, see that he was getting too close. He squeezed hard, hard enough to make Jim gasp instead of just squirm, and then drew his hand away. "We're almost there. You can hold on."

Yeah, and the way that Jim managed to pull his hands away even though he clearly didn't want to do it, that was fucking hot. It was gorgeous, and god, this was going to be so good. "I don't want to." Sullen, yeah, but he could handle that.

"I have a mirror at the end of the bed. You can get a peek at how fantastic you look like that." Bait him to hold out a little longer as they started to pass by bits of civilisation.

Jim shifted but he didn't bother to close his cloak. Instead he left himself on display, hands clenched into fists at his side. "Then you had better fucking hurry because I'm ready now."

They passed two more houses and Sebastian turned up the shortish driveway to his garage to park. The door went up, let him coast in, and then went down behind his car, sealing them into the garage. "I said you could make it."

That pout was fucking delicious. "Didn't want to." Yeah, and his hand was going back down again, but now Sebastian could do something about it.

Now he could lean over the shifter and push Jim up against the inside of the car door, kissing him hard. "Then you deserve a reward."

"Nnnn." Moan, yeah, right into his mouth, and he was squirming, twisting, getting himself into a position beneath Sebastian's hands that could only make it easier to access every bit of him. He wasn't shy, either, getting a hand wrapped around Sebastian's arm and pulling him in closer, the other fumbling between them and landing on his cock.

He pushed his hips up hard against Jim's fingers, grinding. "The best part of this is that you're mine." He hauled Jim in closer, fumbling with the damn cloak for a moment.

"Going to fuck me in the car?" It was half a taunt and half an invitation, and Sebastian gave it some damn serious consideration before deciding that they'd be best served by making it to the bed.  
Then they wouldn't have to get out of it.

"Too much stuff in the way. This time." He reached across Jim and popped the door open on him. He nearly fell out of it but it was a mostly controlled squirm of a tumble, and the way he sulked up at Sebastian, all contained fire and fury and lust, was just fucking amazing. Completely, and he didn't laugh because that was the wrong thing to do just now. Better to shift and pull his long legs out of the car.

"This time." Jim's jaw clenched and unclenched. "Do that again and I'll make you regret it."

He closed the door, sliding an arm around Jim as if in apology. "Sorry. I have a bit of a wicked streak. No one is spared if the temptation is there." He'd done horrible funny underhanded things to OF-4s and 5s and Generals, because he'd been hazed in turn coming up and would be until he left. It was how it was.

Jim would get used to it. Eventually.

He seemed to take it as accepted, and moved closer, licking his lower lip as he peered up at Sebastian. He was fucking adorable, actually, and Sebastian leaned down and clasped him tightly.

"Upstairs. Christ, you're stunning..." He pulled, and leaned in to kiss him again. For a moment, it was all hot, wet, amazing, and then... "Ow!"

Ow, because the little bastard had bitten the shit out of him and was grinning as though he'd done something worth rewarding. "Upstairs, then?"

He started to laugh, chuckling and staring at Jim. "All right, letting you fall out doors is off the list."

Reaching up, Jim pated his cheek and smiled. "There you go. Just so. Now, then. We need a bed if you aren't going to fuck me in the car."

There was something about Jim's tone that took Sebastian aback, made him consider him a little harder as he moved to open the door to let him into the house. "You are something special." Different than he had expected, and he wondered just how much Jim might have been hiding. He had a feeling that it might be one hell of a lot. There was nothing that he could do except wait and see, and it was kind of like opening a present or maybe a little like dismantling a bomb. He wasn't sure which. Either way, it didn't matter. Jim was his and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

He locked the door between the garage and the house behind him and let Jim keep walking into the house. He turned off the light, watching Jim's tight ass going down the hallway. "Hold on, it's not a race."

"Isn't it?" Dark eyes turned his way and then the cloak ended up on the floor and there was nothing but Jim in shoes and something that made a pretence at preserving his modesty. Mostly it highlighted the areas Sebastian wanted to see, and then he hooked a thumb in one of the straps, and that was gone, too. "Which way, again?"

"Christ." He exhaled, and reached his fingers out to try to herd Jim up the stairs. "On the left, upstairs. Not much room to get lost in this place."

Jim's hand covered his even as they made it to the landing, and then he turned, and huh. That was interesting, because Sebastian would have thought that he wasn't strong enough to get him against the wall like that. "I'm waiting, Sebastian." Sing-song and soft, and he was rubbing against his thigh, back to biting at his lip again. Maybe it helped him keep control of himself.

He let Jim lean him up against the wall, slid his hands down to grasp his ass cheeks and pull him in close. "Christ, bed. Bed so I can nail you to it."

Yeah, and Jim moved then, tugging at him, pulling him along and closer to the bed. When they got there, he climbed up in it, glanced back over his shoulder. "Well?" Well indeed, because hell, he was going to fuck him until he'd have trouble doing anything more than waving a hand in vague surrender.

His Companion was so sexual, so interested. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a sexual partner who was just that damn worked up about sex. He kissed Jim hard, caressed his hands up to his shoulders to squeeze them tightly. Slim arms slid around his chest, and Jim parted his knees and shifted to press up to him. It was hot, and he was making little sounds, delicious and wanton and fuck. He'd be willing to bet money that nobody would be having the kind of amazing sex they would tonight.

He reached down and gave Jim's dick a slow stroke, knee pressed down against the mattress, edging him further up onto the bed. The pain of it was that he needed to get out of his too fucking fancy Benefactor gear. He didn't want to step away from Jim long enough to get to his own skin. The bunch of fabric twisted uncomfortably, but Jim wouldn't let go, and, well. They were kind of taught this, so maybe... And then there was a hand, slim and dexterous at his fly, and the placket slipped open. He was pretty sure that the inner button popped when Jim pulled at it and he honestly didn't fucking care. Shit could get sewn back together later. He thrust into Jim's fingers and leaned in to bite at Jim's neck, trying to flail free of his tuxedo and his shirt. The bite got him an interesting reaction, something like a yell, and a shudder that rippled through his Companion, goose flesh rising in its wake. "Fuck!" Apparently that was doing something right so he leaned in and nipped again. The sound he gave was almost too much, and then Sebastian realised that Jim was shivering his way into orgasm.

Fuck, that was gorgeous.

Just a little stroking and the pressure of teeth, gentle, really, and Jim was coming quietly, hitching and quiet in a tense way that told Sebastian Jim was someday going to be a screamer if he played his cards right. He kept stroking even after he felt semen ooze against his fingers, smoothing it back over Jim's skin.

"Bastard." Oh, yes. Yes, that was charming, the way he looked at Sebastian as though it were all his fault. "Oh. Bastard."

"I get you off and you swear at me," Sebastian said aloud, kissing at the bite mark that seemed brightest on his neck. His hand was a sticky mess and he stroked Jim's thigh because if he was lucky they'd both be a sticky mess soon. "Is that a compliment or...?"

He seemed to be thinking about it. He licked his lips, eying Sebastian with a frankly heated gaze. "I'm not sure, tiger." Odd endearment, but then he winked and pursed his lips into a blown kiss. "How fast can you get me up and functioning again?"

"As soon as I get my clothes off." Just getting Jim hard again was going to be the fun part. He could see a lot of slow fingering and sucking until he sprang back to life. Then, then Seb wanted to try to fuck it out of him. He started to pull away to get properly naked, and Jim let him this time. He laid there, eyes hot and seeing everything. His hand drew little paths on his skin, just above the pen branding, and every so often, he would press a finger to it and draw in a hitching breath. Maybe he should have written more letters or demanded the occasional phone call. It might have shown him what a fantastic deviant Jim was becoming. Not that it would've changed a damn thing, because he didn't think even encouraging it could have worked better for him. "You like it to hurt a little?" He got his shoes off, his socks, got his pants down with his dick still hard and aching by the time his shirt joined the pants on the floor.

"I like all kinds of fun things," Jim murmured. His lips were stained cherry red from biting and the light coming in from the hall wasn't enough. Wasn't going to be nearly enough. Jim pressed the skin at the brand and whimpered, dick twitching.

"Practicum must've driven you crazy." He reached for the lube he'd purchased just for that occasion, standing proud on the bedside stand and ready as he put a knee on the bed again.

Oh, there was that look again. Dirty and a little dangerous, and he paused, head tilted to the side as he watched Jim carefully. "There were days that I wanted to rip out the hair of my partner and _make_ him do it. Make him do everything I wanted, and it took everything I had to keep from it."

"Suppose that would've been an awkward call to the front." Sebastian was deeply tempted to brandish the lube at Jim, but it was better to lean in and kiss him. Jim opened to him, let him delve deep, one arm moving to drape over his shoulder in a lazy motion. A foot set up a steady rub against his calf, and that was slow and indolent, as well, teasing. Sweet, which he suspected was not anything like normal. He popped the cap off of the lubricant one handed, and smeared a little messily on his fingertips. The kissing was deep and the teasing was sweet, so Sebastian hoped the sneak of his fingertips between Jim's asscheeks qualified as better than sweet. "How did the opener feel?"

"Cold." The word was mumbled in between kisses, Jim shifting to let him in, let him touch. "Hard. Not like you're going to be."

"I'm already hard," he murmured, slipping one finger in slowly, feeling Jim's muscles flex and shift tightly against him. He liked that position, leaning over him. It was compelling, put him in charge of this, and if anything felt natural to Sebastian, it was being the one in power. Jim moaned at the touch, head tilting back, and he was biting his lip again, trying to retain control of his reactions. "Go on, let loose. It's just you and me here, Jim..." He bit Jim's lip as well, just lightly, enough to pull at the skin as he thrust his finger in and out slowly. Just the one, but it was getting to be too much, too good, he hoped. Jim's sounds were soft, dark, deep, and it was clear that he didn't know how to let loose of that control. He'd probably been in control of everything at the fucking Centre, thinking rings around them, never actually losing control of himself, and Sebastian wanted to see him go to fucking pieces. "Christ, don't fight it. Just enjoy it..." He edged up on Jim, got his other hand under Jim's back, and hitched him up to slide a knee under his ass. "I want you screaming for it."

Just the words seemed to draw loose another reluctant sound. He opened dark eyes and looked up at Sebastian, and it took his breath away to see that fight to let go all because he wanted him to do it. "I..." Whatever he planned to say, it was cut off by a sharp gasp when Sebastian crooked his finger. He could feel the tight clench, and Jim cried out quietly when he pushes another finger into him. He had to still be sore from the opener, even with the lube and drugs, but Jim was arching for more just then as he shifted his free hand to stoke Jim's mostly soft dick.

"I want you hard again before I fuck you."

"Nnnnot going to be a problem." He was getting there, and he shuddered when Sebastian stroked him again, hands moving in a vague sort of way before they clutched at the duvet beneath them.

He huffed a laugh, hauling Jim up further against his thigh by shoving his leg forward. He twisted his fingers sharply, counterpoint to the next stroke. "I need another set of hands. Christ. I bet you have all types of dirty fantasies you want to try."

The intensity of Jim's gaze made him shiver with pleasure. "You have no idea." None, maybe, but then he crooked his fingers again and made him yell, head tossing. "Fuck!"

"Feeling ready?" He gave his fingers a testing twist just because he could, watching him squirm like a fish. Garbled answer, and one hand let loose of the duvet and shot down to grab Sebastian's wrist as though to hold it in place. God, that was gorgeous, but he couldn't have that. Not right now.

He twisted his fingers again. "Is that a yes, a no, or do you not want more?"

"Fuck you!" Oh, feisty, and Sebastian got hold of his hand and pushed it up, out of the way, and yeah. He was well on his way to hard again so it would be soon.

"You could be a little more direct," Sebastian half-joked, squeezing Jim's fingers. "I'm afraid I'm not sure how to take that."

"Would you just..." Yeah. Begging was going to look so fucking good on him when the time came, and Sebastian knew it would, that he'd get to see him wanting it, begging for it, seducing him in the damned kitchen, because Jim was clearly hot for it. Wanted it, and the way he was writhing, struggling, trying to get more was fucking beautiful.

So he pulled his fingers out, heard Jim hiss protest as he wrapped his hands around Jim's hips to pull him in closer, his dick jutting hard against Jim's ass cheeks. "We're getting there."

"Not fast enough." Yeah, but now he did have the sense to look a little uncertain. Sebastian had expected that sooner. It was all right, he'd make it all right, and he leaned in to catch Jim's mouth, kiss him. He liked how Jim kissed him, liked the linger of lips against his mouth, the threat of sharpness behind every touch. He fumbled with the lube one handed again, trying to keep Jim uncertain and distracted. There was no way for him to hide the moans, soft, barely there, or the way he squeezed around Sebastian's fingers. God, he was going to be in there before much longer, and Jim was clinging to his shoulders now, nails cutting into his skin with the sheer strength of the touch. "Size queen?" he half joked, moving his hand to start slicking himself up.

That earned him a blank look. "What?" Clearly he had learned the word fuck, but not that phrase. Interesting, and sort of fun.

Sebastian's mouth curled into a small smug smirk. "I have a big dick. I hope you're into that sort of thing."

There was something speculative in that expression, the way that he looked up at him. "I don't know. Although I might have thought about it." Quirk of that naughty mouth, a twitch of expressive brow. "So get to it." Yeah, and he was definitely hard, cock leaning a little to the left. Getting off the first time was good, meant that he would probably last longer.

He wanted it to last long, wanted to go slow, stretch Jim's ass out for him. He was going to take his time with Jim on his back and his face easy to see as he smeared lube over the head of his cock before he leaned back so he could see what he was doing and enjoy the show. "Ready?" Yeah, and that was good, nod of assent so that he could pull his fingers out of that snug clench and put them on his dick instead, rubbing it along the cleft and nudging it into place.

"For god's sake, yes!"

He started the slow press in. Jim's asshole looked a little pink, a little over-worked already, and the head of his dick pressing in and spreading it was a gorgeous sight. The sound Jim was making was low, not quite a groan, and he was biting his lip again, hands dropping away from Sebastian to knot in the duvet. He moved slowly, carefully, and paused when he finally got just into him, feeling the spasming clench as Jim tried to adjust. His face was flushed, and his eyes were tightly closed, brows knit together. His dick was softening, and when a whine cracked its way loose, Sebastian thought he'd do just about anything to make things better for him.

He moved the hand that wasn't holding onto Jim's thigh to stroke his dick, not going any further. "I can wait. I can hold out for ages." Fuck, because he was tight, really perfectly tight, and Jim was squirming, looking _wrecked_. The satisfaction of making him come apart, lose control, lingered sweetly in the back of Sebastian's mind, and he wasn't surprised when Jim braced himself, opened his eyes, and looked directly at him. It made his own breath catch, stole it away, and then Jim licked his bite-reddened lips and tried to push up and get more of him. It caught him off guard, even as he gave a slow shaky thrust into him. "Oh yes, yes, this is so much better than you mewling and begging me."

He was gasping, yeah, and making a face that said it was harder than he made it look. "Just for fuck's sake." Jim moaned it and then reached for him, and god, that was fucking good.

That was amazing, hitching his hips forward hard enough to thrust into Jim just a little more and a little more and more, until he was balls deep into him and trying to slowly jack him off. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck..." Fuck because it had been a while, fuck because Jim was clenching so hard around him it was nearly unbearable. Fuck because his face was damp, but it wasn't tears; it was sweat, and his mouth was open, gulping in air and mewling, desperate. He started to rock his hips back, a slow wild clench around his dick before he started to thrust back. "Oh god. Oh, Christ, yes. Fuck, you feel amazing."

If Jim were trying to say something back, he couldn't tell. It was all sex sounds, pleading and desperate. One leg tangled itself around Sebastian's and the other made an effort to get him closer. He was hard as a rock in Sebastian's hand, and he began to stroke him a little roughly.

Thank god he wasn't playing at blushing innocence.

"Tight, god you're tight." He tilted his hips, thrusting carefully. He didn't want it to go too fast, didn't want to lose that moment, but he wanted to thrust until he broke through Jim, until he was more than sweating, until he was crying from the intensity of the pleasure. He was going to get that out of him. Another man might have gone about it differently, might have gentled him through it, kissed his Companion's soft whimpers from open, pleading lips. Sebastian was a great deal more lucky than those poor sods.

Jim's brow was knitting, his hands clutching tightly. "Too much."

He stopped, slowed to mostly nothing just then, breathing in slowly as he kept the brakes on and completely stopped. He gave a couple of strokes, toying with the length of Jim's dick. "Too much?"

"Fuck." He was whimpering a little now, and Sebastian leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You're huge. 'm getting sore."

Not so much a surprise, that. "Yeah. Next time, I'll get you good and relaxed." Eat out his ass. Between the lube from before and the opener having been passed through too many hands at the ceremony, he hadn't felt that much interest in the moment. Sebastian let his fingers slide to rub at Jim's hip, slow circles. If Jim had a better idea, he was listening, but he wasn't going to give the little pervert an out. He watched Jim take a deep breath and then another, and then he consciously relaxed himself, a slow process. When he looked up at Sebastian and nodded, he shifted his hips and got his knees repositioned. It took a bit of the edge off, just kneeling there in Jim, feeling that tightness squirm and twitch around him, watching Jim's face. He petted a hand up to Jim's knee, and the pulled back to slowly thrust back in. "Mmmhm. We'll have to turn this around sometime. Really, nothing else feels like it."

Nothing, and he was so tight, so delicious. Jim made another little sound, and reached between them to stroke himself. Yeah, that was gorgeous to see. He'd have to arrange a way to see that often. Sebastian liked the angle he had Jim at, the way he could see his dick stretching Jim out, clutching around him as he rocked back and forth, and Jim stroked. It was hard to keep moving slowly, to let it build naturally when the sight of Jim stroking himself was so fucking attractive. He wasn't going to get tears, not this time. That was all right, though; he'd get them sometime, fuck Jim until he was so desperate to come that he'd get them, although he had a feeling they'd be hard won. Now, he had Jim splayed out, getting closer, and he wasn't hiding the sounds he made anymore. He was open about being ravished, about being fucked senseless, so he relaxed and started to thrust harder, jarring Jim, making him jerk with every hard thrust.

Every new motion made him hiccough sound, and he was fucking shameless. Gorgeous and brazen, and his hand was jacking faster now, faster, and Sebastian knew he wouldn't last much longer.

He didn't need to, not when he was so close himself. Sebastian just wanted to keep thrusting long enough to get Jim to come, to fuck him through it hard and fast. "Christ, yes. Come on, Jim, come on."

Come on, and he yelled, back arching as he came everywhere, semen splattering over his belly and chest, all the way up to his chin. If he had been tight before, he was almost too tight for Sebastian to keep fucking him then, but damned if he didn't give it a fair try.

He arched into his own orgasm, sliding a hand through the semen on Jim's stomach. He'd imagined his Companion being an imaginative, messy fuck but he hadn't bet it could've been _that_ good, that balls draining fucking good. Christ fucking knew, but it was perfect. He was perfect, and it took everything Sebastian could do not to laugh with the sheer joy of it.

The thing about coming was that it usually blew his fucking mind right into nap-land. He'd had partners bitch about it, he'd had some who seemed to find it entirely appropriate, and then...

Then there was Jim.

Jim shoved at him, and he ended up on the other side of the bed, laughing and lounging in the mess of sheets. No one had ever done that, shoved at him in such a burst of rage. "Christ, I'm keeping you forever."

Reaching up, Jim rubbed a thumb across his chin, eying the droplets of semen. Then he licked it off of the pad, watching Sebastian with narrowed eyes. "You had better."

He exhaled in a slow hum of breath and slid an arm under Jim's shoulders, stroking fingers through his hair. "You're a threatening bastard of a Companion and I like it."

"Too late to give me back now." Yeah, and he was watching Sebastian from the corner of his eyes, mouth set, a sort of thoughtful expression on his face. "I won't go."

As though it were actually an option.

"It's not really an option, giving you back. Nowhere for you to go, baby. You'll fit in great here." He smirked a little, shifted in closer to kiss the curve of his mouth. That seemed to click over in his mind, rapid tick, and that smile was actually just a bit scary. Just a bit, and then Jim kissed him and he could taste him, wanted to lick him clean, even.

The salt of semen was on his tongue, a little leftover suggestion of warm spit that reminded him that Jim probably needed something to eat when he found the energy. "What do you want?"

"Everything." Well. That was fantastically fucking specific.

"We'll start small. Dinner?" He slid his thumb over Jim's nose, and found himself not at all surprised when he shifted and snapped at his fingers then kissed the tips of them.

He seemed to think on it. "Something better than the shit they were serving tonight."

"I'll make you a steak." And a vegetable, but mostly the steak. A fantastic fuck like that deserved a steak dinner and he had no qualms about bringing it to Jim. He figured that sitting at the table might be a little difficult at the moment.

Jim sucked lightly at his fingertips again, and yeah. They'd have to get around to that sometime soon. "Go char meat for me," he demanded. Sweetly, but still a demand, and Sebastian recognised it as such. He drew back his hand and rolled to his feet slowly.

"Got a preference?" Otherwise he was going to get it medium and to Sebastian's taste, which he liked to think was impeccable.

He had, after all, chosen Jim. It worked out pretty well, all around.

Gleam of teeth, and Jim settled himself more comfortably on the bed. "I like my meat a bit bloody."

Somehow, that didn't surprise him in the least.

* * *

Sebastian slept like a dead log.

It worked out well for Jim that Sebastian slept soundly because he got free reign of the house for a couple of unquestioned hours. That was vital if he intended to make plans, decide what he was going to do now that he had Gone Home. He was fairly certain no other Companions were roaming their new homes freely tonight, and it made him smirk to consider. His ass was throbbing and he had absolutely no intention of sitting for a day or three if it could be avoided. Might as well explore.

After a bit of roaming, Jim decided that the house was suitable enough. Nondescript, nice without being too nice, and there were plenty of places to use as boltholes of whatever sort. 

He could hide things without even Sebastian finding them. Sebastian was also careless with his things and casual with his comfort in the house. He'd left enough personal correspondence and bills and paperwork in his office for Jim to take him for all he was worth -- which seemed considerable -- and run for it.

He wasn't ready to make that determination yet.

Emotions left a man week, left him in danger. Gave him soft spots, he had seen it, and he wasn't stupid. He understood what the Centre did, the general brainwashing that made Companions who and what they were. No one could ever mistake him for stupid, but he certainly felt _interested_ in his Benefactor. Why shouldn't he? It had been encouraged since he was barely old enough to toddle, all of the mythos and ridiculous stories told to them, and so that was not unexpected.

Actually rather liking Sebastian was, though. Just a bit.

Sebastian was a bastard, but not the kind of bastard who made him fear for his life. The kind of bastard that made Jim wonder if he'd found a kindred spirit. His personal files were too much on the up and up from what Jim could see.

It made him wickedly suspicious. No one, no one at all, could possibly be that aboveboard. Well, perhaps John, but John was boring. Sebastian hadn't fucked him like the sort of person who would be tedious and it made him utterly curious, so he kept digging. That desk was nice, ornate _old_ , and Jim remembered old desks. They were full of little boltholes built right into them. Some of the best were painfully obvious but he hadn't found one of those yet, either.

What he lacked in patience, he made up for in thought process. The bottom left drawer had the barest of differences in height to the bottom right and so he carefully delved at both of them. A faint click at the back left corner on the right, right corner on the left, popped up the bottoms.

Excellent.

He found stacks of clean, rubber-banded cash below the inserts -- pounds, euros, dollars. There was no associated paperwork but there was clearly an organisation to it.

How lovely.

A quick count was rather impressive; enough cash that it would clearly get both of them out of country and just about anywhere they would like, although perhaps not enough to hide them from seeking eyes. He would have to consider those calculations, figure a way to add to them. It was interesting and clearly in no way legitimate. If it had been then it would not be stuffed into a false-bottomed drawer, and no one else would have been able to make the calculations he had to see the difference. Likely it would never have occurred to them, and so he very carefully replaced the money exactly as it had been removed before moving to the next drawer.

He started to look for another bottom, another edge. There was no bottom, but there was a thin piece of wood at the back that pried up nicely. There were letters back there, carefully flattened to fit. The writing was beautiful, lyrical, and not a language he actually knew, which made it even more interesting. It had to be some form of Arabic. He would clearly need to learn a new language in very short order so that he could read them and know exactly what they meant.

With gentle touch, he put them back in place and closed the drawer, settling back on his heels. Well, well. Jim hadn't expected to be so pleased with himself, or with what he had planned. His plans hadn't been altogether made, and that was for the best. Clearly there were things here that bore consideration, and he couldn't keep the smile from creeping over his mouth. A few weeks of staying and finding out exactly what Sebastian was, at the core of him, couldn't hurt anything. It made dealing with his Benefactor so much more fascinating than it could have been. There were letters and money and who knew what else ferreted away that he could find when he wasn't sneaking around in the dark with a torch stuck in his mouth. Also, it might help if he hadn't been so thoroughly fucked. Just getting out of bed had been an effort, and he thought perhaps he would need a hot shower in order to move more easily.

In the morning, he'd run the risk of getting caught so he needed to find more casual ways to dig or wait until the next night, but the being fucked out of his ease of movement was difficult to count on. Then again, the man clearly had a healthy sex drive. Perhaps he'd become accustomed to the sheer size of him. He hated to admit it, but it was rather nice.

He just wished he knew what the size queen joke was about before he'd really felt the man's hefty girth. Solid, solid was a better word for it. Solid and doing something bad back in Afghanistan during all those years of service. It gave him positive thrills, and sort of made him hard. How annoying. That would be inconvenient and would take some work to divert, because even with the throb in his bum, he still _wanted_.

Oh, he wanted. He wanted to get back in there and ride Sebastian Moran, Marksman and infantry officer, like a wild horse. A bucking bronco. It was a great mental image, but his ass couldn't handle it just then.

He went to the bookshelves next, checking their lines, the measurements, the way they sat. There was nothing in particular that was wrong there at first glance, but he did find a book that seemed to be a fair guide to Pashto which looked like the language in which most of the letters had been written. Now and again he would run across more letters tucked away in no particular pattern. There were a few in French, which Jim spoke badly, and Spanish, which he spoke a bit less badly. If the contents were what he thought, it did make him perk up a bit. Sebastian had to go to work sometime, after all, and he could peruse them at his leisure then, work out what he was going to do. There would be more money as well -- in furniture, though, not the house itself. He'd have to check other drawers, other shelves.

Decision made, Jim slipped the last book back onto the shelf and considered what he might do next. He was wide awake and crawling back into bed seemed boring.

He could eat except he'd been well fed. Sebastian had brought him an excellent steak and green beans, and had sat and eaten the same while drinking a beer. Jim could get drunk, but that seemed like it might be more fun with company. And a less sore bum. Honestly, perhaps he had encouraged Sebastian a bit much, all things considered, and he turned to look down his back as though he could actually _see_ anything, then promptly felt stupid.

The only mark on him was that he had the brand carefully scratched onto his hip, covered in cotton non-stick padding. That had been unexpected, that extra interest in personalising his mark on Jim. And the joke with the Corgi, he hadn't expected that either. Most people were foolish and dull, but Sebastian was... not at all dull. With a sigh, he folded a hand under his chin and considered the matter. Clearly it might take him a while to become accustomed, but he thought that perhaps he might be willing to stay, at least for now.

Decision made, he creakily rose to his feet and stretched. Might as well go back to bed then. At least there, he could safely rest without having to sit.

He would just have to see what tomorrow might bring.

* * *

Dreams were funny things. Somehow he had gone from running from fast zombies to shooting an Argentinian general to something that was kind of like a brothel he remembered from Australia. It was hot and wet and the suction was fucking amazing.

He thrust up his hips, squirming into the sensation which was almost too much, but Christ. It was a hell of a dream. Suction like a damned vacuum, tongue rubbing across the head in a way that got his attention. He liked this dream, he was pretty sure it was better than the Australian whore. There was a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and what felt like a thumb rubbing the skin behind his balls. Fuck, but that was fantastic.

He stretched, and it slowly started to filter through to him that maybe it wasn't a dream. Just maybe. His hands were imbedding in hair, after all, and then there was a sound that was familiar, a voice humming low as with enjoyment. Fuck, and that was enough to remind him exactly where he was and what was going on.

God, he was lucky.

"Morning?" He made a sleepy noise, halfway drawing up his leg so he'd have leverage.

That greeting earned him another low hum that he felt all the way through his dick. Being awakened by blow jobs was one hell of a perk when it came to being a Benefactor. Maybe he wouldn't have bitched as much if he knew that it all came down to morning blow jobs, insanely intelligent conversation, and a lover who liked it however he wanted to do it.

Jim liked sex. No need to coax him, no trying to talk him into anything at all. He was just happy for sex, and not to be bored senseless. "Oh, god yes." Yes, and that rub behind his balls fabulous. It was always kind of weird to him how all the rest of the Benefactors seemed to have such a goddamned virginity fetish. Knowledge was much better in Sebastian's opinion, and Jim was fucking insatiable. He'd somehow found a sex manual in the house that definitely didn't belong to him and he hadn't wasted a second researching its accuracy.

It made Sebastian want to buy Jim some damn sex manuals just to see what he'd come up with. Jim's fingers were plying, pressing, and one day, Sebastian was pretty sure he was going to wake up with Jim balls deep in him and no idea how that had happened. "Christ, look at you. You're gorgeous like that." Gorgeous sucking his dick, fucking messy with it, chin slick with saliva, lips red where they were wrapped around him. However long he'd been sucking Sebastian's dick, he clearly wasn't ready to quit just yet. He had a ridiculous determination and he wanted to be able to get Sebastian into his throat, suck him right down until he came so hard he saw stars. Somehow Sebastian couldn't come up with a good reason to discourage him.

"You've almost got it all in this time." There was so much sensation at the head of his dick, bumping up against the back of his throat. He wondered how he had managed it, and then Jim gave a hum of satisfaction, and it seemed like a damned good time to come. Groaning and squirming to thrust into Jim's mouth, knowing it had to be choking him, flooding his mouth with semen, and only some of it spilled around the edges of Jim's lips. "Fuck, fuck..." His gorgeous slutty Companion, giving him cow eyes from between his legs.

God, but it was like something out of porn, and he reached down, still hazy from orgasm, to stroke a thumb over Jim's cheekbone as Jim coughed, eyes watering. "Fu-uck."

"You're beautiful and filthy. You want coffee to get that taste out of your mouth?" He kept up the motion, watching Jim cough again.

He nodded, and then turned his head to bite sharply at Sebastian's fingers. "Make me breakfast." He coughed again, and cleared his throat.

"Sometimes I wonder if you learned to cook at all." He stretched his legs carefully, reaching his hand down to tug at Jim. "Big plans for your day?"

The scrunch of his face was kind of adorable. "Hated cooking class. It was all blah blah measure blah blah art blah blah and then there was cake. Boring." He shifted, crawled his way up Sebastian in a slinky, skinny-limbed sort of way. "Plans to find a way not to be bored."

"We have dinner with my family tonight. And then the weekend." Weekends so far had consisted of Jim's occasional wild plans and urges to _try_ things.

He was never going to forget the weekend with the stilettos and the garters. Fuck, but that had been amazing just to see, Jim in red lipstick, dick framed by the waist-clasping black lace, the black silk hose. He was practically being fucked into oblivion, which, hey. Hard to argue when it was that amazing. "Dinner."

"Yeah. I've managed to wave them off long enough. They want to meet you." His most fervent wish was that it didn't end with a building being set on fire. Mostly because it was part of his eventual inheritance lost if Jim did.

The fact that he didn't doubt that it would be Jim who was responsible should probably have been troubling; he was a little more bothered by the fact that he wasn't disturbed by it. "Fine." He didn't sound happy about it. "They'll expect me to be... _Companionable_."

He leaned down and kissed Jim while he shifted out from under his Companion. "Mostly I expect you not to stab my father or set the house on fire. Lowered expectations here."

The hefty weight of Jim's sigh was sullen, pissy. "Fine. Fine, I won't set the house alight, nor will I stab anyone." Somehow that didn't seem to be the most easily given promise. "Fatally."

Right.

He had a very funny Companion even if it was discomfiting at the oddest moments. "No stabbing at all. That house is on a very nice piece of real estate and I'd like to be left in the will if it's all the same to you. If I get disinherited, I'd like to earn it myself."

Jim waved a hand and rolled off of him. "Fine. I said I wouldn't harm anyone fatally."

"Not exactly engendering me with trust," Sebastian warned as he shifted to stand up, scuffing a hand through his own hair.

"Then let's go out to dinner instead. More difficult for someone to be stabbed for annoying me that way." He was smirking, though, so maybe he didn't mean it. Exactly.

Oh, hell.

He rubbed at the nape of his neck, shaking his head as he started out of the bathroom. "You're unbelievable, Jim. Breakfast is coming." At least he was a hell of an alarm clock.

Jim blew him a kiss and then scarpered, slipping out of the bedroom and into the hall, probably to use the bathroom down the way. He was a bit odd about sharing a bathroom and Sebastian had gotten accustomed to him locking the door.

He didn't ponder on it very long while he pissed, washed up, brushed his teeth. He started to the kitchen. There was breakfast to make, a day of work to contemplate, and then he needed to get dressed and cleaned up himself.

By the time he had pancakes on, Jim had settled at the table and was watching him, eyes interested in breakfast. He should be; Sebastian was swirling cinnamon filling in the things and they smelled amazing. "Hurry," he encouraged.

"Why, in a rush to do what today?" He flipped two pancakes, looking over his shoulder at Jim. "Want to grab coffee?"

"Want to eat," Jim informed him, shifting so that he leaned on his elbows, knees in the seat. "And then you can go to work."

"I'm glad I have your permission," Sebastian joked, reaching to grab a plate. "You're going to run out of books. Have you given any thought about what I said?"

That caught Jim's attention, at least a little. "Which bit?"

"About coming to work with me on the base. About what you might like to do." He'd left some job openings on his desk for Jim to look at, see what he thought.

"Aaah." He gnawed at his lower lip, considering the matter. "Something that isn't tedious. I don't know."

"What isn't tedious to you? Everything is boring to you so far," Seb murmured as he slid a pancake onto the plate he'd just grabbed. Jim wasted no time in grabbing it and slapping butter on a side, eying the griddle with serious consideration.

"All of it is so simple. I need something more complicated to keep my attention. These things, they..." Jim waved a hand. "Too easy."

"What isn't too easy for you?" He tilted his head, watching Jim as he poured out another couple of pancakes. That just got him a smile and a shake of Jim's head. He had learned early on that other people seemed to find Jim's smile disturbing. One of the neighbours had apparently told another that it reminded her of a crocodile: flat, dead, and just about to eat someone. Sebastian rather liked it, although he could kind of see how that would make someone nervous. Thing was, Jim watched people. He saw them, and some people couldn't bear to be seen. Not really.

"I'll find something," Jim decided, and continued buttering pancakes.

"All right. I just feel shitty leaving you here by yourself all day." He half-wanted to suggest that Jim might like a pet but he wasn't sure if that was a good idea. A cat, maybe, something that wasn't reliant on Jim. Something fairly independent.

A languid motion came by way of answer. "I'm learning things. We'll get more books." Or something was the implication. Jim didn't seemed too fussed by it and Sebastian didn't need money.

"All right. Let me know if you start to go crazy out here by yourself." He added another pancake to Jim's plate as soon as it was cooked and then started another for himself.

That seemed to be enough conversation because he could hear Jim putting things to rights behind him, settling down. His plate was waiting by the time he was done, coffee steaming, and Jim's mouth was full of pancake. It was hard not to appreciate that, Jim's ease with the little things. He settled in across from him and started to eat, hoping for a relaxing day -- or at least a low key one -- back with his unit that morning.

"Tell me about your family." It was more an order and less a question. He was getting accustomed to it.

"My father's a diplomat and a lord," Sebastian said after a thoughtful moment, "and my sister works in government. He was the head of mission in Iran and Afghanistan."

That seemed to pique Jim's interest. "You hated that, didn't you?"

"I hate him. The time I spent in other countries as a child has been invaluable to me." He swallowed another bite, and took a sip of his coffee.

That expression was calculating. "Tell me about the places you've been." It hadn't been the question Sebastian expected.

He wasn't sure anymore what question he was expecting, though. "Every continent except Antarctica," Sebastian offered with a shrug. "Where'd you like to start?"

Jim's fork was in his mouth and he hummed around his breakfast. "Whichever one you liked best."

"I liked India and Iran best, in that order. I've just spent a lot of time in Afghanistan. India was beautiful. I ran away from home when we were on a trip and nearly starved to death for a month in India. I was never happier." He smirked.

Jim hummed by way of answer, eying him. "We should go to those places then. I'd like to see the places you love."

"India next time I have leave. Until then I have to deal with the slog of getting the unit back up to snuff. Everyone's got their personal shit." He scraped his pancakes through a little butter. "It's dull."

"Exactly." The sheer pleasure Jim took in that acknowledgment made Sebastian smile. "I will think of something I would like to do eventually, Sebastian. Let me consider the matter."

"No pressure." He took another sip of his coffee and leaned back in his chair. "Right, time to go." He'd never had trouble getting out before then but now he had a reason to enjoy being at home.

"Kiss first, darling." Jim was up on his knees again, face upturned expectantly. Hmm, that was sweet, and the kiss tasted like pancakes and coffee.

"Have a good day." If his voice felt a little rough, well. It was just going to be a long day. It wasn't that he was worried or had the urge to stay with him, or at least not so strongly that he couldn't resist.

Jim just smiled at him, small and dark, flicking a flirtatious look up through his lashes. "I will."

He didn't loiter, just left then to head to the base. There were forms to go over, training plans to approve, places to inspect.

Might as well get it all over with as not.

* * *

Ugh.

Dinner.

It wasn't that Jim had anything against food, particularly exotic and properly cooked. It was that he had something against having dinner with the proverbial _in-laws_. For lack of a better term. It was exacerbated by the fact that Sebastian clearly didn't like them. He was agitated on his drive up to the manor house, carefully parking beside a blue Jaguar and a black Rolls Royce.

"Okay. Best behaviour, right?" He shut off the engine and turned to look carefully at Jim.

Ha.

Jim managed not to snap or make demands. He didn't want Sebastian to have any reason to be more worked up than he already was. Instead he reached up, straightened his tie, and was grateful that his Benefactor didn't recognise high fashion. He simply tipped his head back and smiled, giving Sebastian a look that he hoped was reassuring. "I'll do my best." Not to kill anyone.

He licked his bottom lip, eyes intense as he bent in and kissed him briefly. "Thank you." Sebastian leaned back and Jim took that as his cue to get out of their car.

It almost made him feel uncertain; not guilty because he never felt that, but a little off. He ignored it and carefully slid a hand in his pocket, tilting his head to the side to eye the manor. It was gorgeous, flint and Chilmark stone, sprawling and well-designed from the outside. He was sure that it would be infinitely lovely inside, as well, but it lacked something. He wasn't entirely sure what, but he decided that he wouldn't buy anything like it when the time came. He wanted something more tasteful, old but modern at the same time. Jim hadn't yet started to interfere with Sebastian's decorations, but it was just a matter of time, because Sebastian had a sort of... old taste. Or a lack of taste, Jim hadn't decided.

Sebastian slipped his arm over Jim's shoulders as they started toward it. "I spent the day trying to resolve a pending divorce."

It wasn't so bad. Interesting, even, he supposed, to be held so gently to his Benefactor's side. Almost a protective sort of grasp, and Jim could tell that he would need his teeth later in the evening if it began this way. "Do tell."

"Well, one of my boy's wife cheated on him while he was deployed. Not really a massive shocker, but then he revenge fucked my best corpsman, who's single. So that's one less bit of paperwork to deal with. and they all carried it out in this most melodramatic fucking way. I don't want anyone sitting across from my desk crying unless there's been a dead body." His fingers patted at Jim's shoulder.

God, he could not imagine dealing with that shit all day. He expected that it made Sebastian's face look pinched and irritated and uninterested, and he was going to need to do something about that. Not entirely soon, but soon enough. There was no point in allowing him to continue dealing with stupidity when he was at least bright enough to assist him in his plans. Webs. Whatever.

And he was, Jim was sure of it. It wasn't just a Companion being hopeful about his Benefactor. It wasn't. "You would've sat there and made horrible faces," Sebastian assured as they started up the wide marble steps.

"I would have shot them and gotten it over with. Better than shooting myself in order to finish the thing and escape." That honesty got him a laugh and a kiss against his temple, and Jim couldn't help smiling.

It was, frankly, disgusting.

He still wasn't entirely sure if Sebastian thought he might be joking and thus 'cute', like a nippy cat, or whether he processed and understood Jim's comments and was just accepting them with ease. He hadn't yet worked through the contents of the man's correspondence to the point where he could answer that. He also had manuscripts that he was shopping on the glories of hunting.

Jim had a lot of hope, and hope was going to get him through the damn dinner. Sebastian rang the doorbell, and they waited.

And waited.

When the man finally opened the door, he was clearly a thousand years old. No wonder he had taken so long, and he had hair in his ears and his nose. Disturbing.

"Richard. We're not late, are we?" They were precisely on time, but it was annoyingly polite of Sebastian to say it as they stepped inside.

"No, sir. Miss Sabrina and Lord Trevelyan have already arrived and are in the Blue Parlour awaiting your arrival." The old man nearly creaked when he turned, and Jim promised himself that he -- they -- would never have anyone that old answering their doors.

Then again, perhaps he'd do better hiring people with weapons and fighting skills to open his doors considering how he spent his spare time of late.

"And has my sister started drinking yet or will I have to break that seal?" Sebastian asked wryly, still half holding onto Jim.

Dear God. Perhaps he should have done research on Sebastian's family instead of working his way into the profits of gaming hells. No. No, that was much less fun by far than making mafiosos tremble at the sight of his smile.

"I am afraid that Miss Sabrina has been holding out for your arrival, sir. Not unexpected, although she does begin to look somewhat desperate."

Sebastian gave Jim a grinning look then, a bizarre expression that he hoped wasn't meant to convey a sense of _someday, all this will be ours_ , drunkenness to handle relatives included. They kept up their walk down a long, polished hallway. "Then I'm going to solve it for her."

This could only end badly, and so Jim grimly tucked away the memory of his quite pleasant day and prepared himself for dinner with the in-laws. Perhaps if things worked out, this would not be an event which they would have to repeat often.

Richard shuffled along before them, and he somehow held in his sigh of irritation at needing to follow the man at his pace. Ugh.

They eventually reached a door that the man pushed open, holding for Jim and Sebastian as Jim stepped through first to see its occupants. The man looked boring, easily dismissed; the woman looked like a dark haired female version of Sebastian, dressed cleanly, a little jewellery, tidy makeup. He wondered if she acted like him as well and slid a hand into a pocket as he tilted his head to the side.

"Hello, Sebastian." She stood and stepped forward, offering her cheek to be kissed. "The girls have missed you."

"I was out of country for a long time," he excused, half hugging her, a brief gesture. "And then I finally brought Jim home."

The woman turned and looked at him, frank and appraising. "Well, it is lovely to meet you. Sebastian has spoken of little except how honestly brilliant you are." A teasing smile darted towards her brother. "One might think he was smitten."

Sebastian's answering smile was a little less bright than Jim was accustomed to it being, which told Jim she was on to something. "He's exceptional."

"Of course I am, darling." Reaching out, he took Sabrina's hand when it was offered, and lightly bussed his lips against her knuckle. Might as well be something like proper. "But so is Sebastian, to be quite fair."

The man snorted, folded his arms over his chest. "I'm still horrified you had to do this."

"I'm still horrified that you think I have any qualms about it," Sebastian countered. "Drinks, Brina?"

"Yes, thank you, I've been waiting for you so that I wouldn't have to drink alone. And you, Jim? Do you partake?"

He tilted his head, eyes sliding towards the man with the crossed arms. Young, so clearly not Sebastian's father. He wondered what was so very horrifying. "No, I can't say as I'm partial to spirits."

"I was tempted to take him out somewhere, start him off on girly drinks," Sebastian teased as he headed towards what looked like a well stocked wet bar.

Jim made a little face and shook his head. "Not good for brainwork, that."

Sabrina laughed, the edge of it a little hard. "For god's sake, don't say such a then when Father gets here. It'll be one more thing for him to bitch about."

"Which part, that I'm trying to get him on girly drinks, or that he doesn't drink?" Sebastian knew how to pour, a casual gesture, mixing something for his sister with different liquors. "Jeremy?"

The man rose, shaking his head. "Could be either one, honestly. Brandy, would you?"

"Sure." He poured that as well, one handed as he handed a drink off to his sister. "How's the old bugger been?"

Settling back, Jim watched the lot of them. It was clear that Sebastian's sister had a fair amount of control over her husband just from the way that they moved, a steady point in the midst of a constellation of men. They spoke for several moments of Sebastian's father and it seemed that there was no love lost between the lot of them. Something about the tension of them made him curious to meet the old man. Perhaps it was going to be more difficult to keep to his promise of no fatalities than he thought.

He drank the seltzer water Sebastian gave him and settled in with him. The tension in Sebastian's body was palpable when the drawing room door opened, and Jim watched Sebastian finish his drink in a long swallow, his adam's apple bobbing faintly.

"Father." Jim hadn't particularly considered their birth order until then; Sabrina was clearly drawing the line of fire away from Sebastian and himself by speaking first. It was equally clear that she was well-accustomed to making that motion. His teeth ground together at that and he wondered how often she had felt the need to stand between them in the past. "How delightful to see you."

"Sabrina." He inclined his head, not quite smiling as he approached her. "Good to see you as always, and Jeremy. And here at last we have Sebastian and his... male Companion."

Oh, that had been quite the argument, apparently. Sebastian's jaw was clenched, a muscle twitching in it, and Jim reached out and laid a hand on his thigh, just above the knee. "Jim," he offered, voice deep and firm. "And yes I am, last I checked. If you like, Sebastian and I can step out and check again."

"I always knew you were a sodomite, but to be quite so proud of it..."

"I'm pretty sure the modern term for it is gay, Father. And we've had this conversation a hundred times. Why waste more words on it?" Jim could feel the muscle flex under his fingers, and he allowed his hand to mould the thigh beneath his fingers, holding on to him.

Jeremy made a faint sound, and honestly. The whole thing was ridiculous. Boring. Utterly tedious, and he could understand why everyone was drinking. "Why don't I get you a drink, sir?"

Yes. Clearly liquor was a matter of survival.

"And you, what do you think you're going to do with yourself? You can't even bear ungrateful children like my wife did!"

Sebastian groaned, and set his glass down on a petite side table. "He could take over the world for all I fucking care. Here, let's go have dinner and pretend that any of us are capable of acting like human beings."

Fuck.

Fuck, because he had years of forcing anger back down his throat, shoving anything that might resemble crazy deep so that no one would try sending him away like Miss Vivian. More than half an hour's time spent in the presence of Sebastian's father would clearly require the entirety of his discipline and that was problematic. He had been letting loose of that for days, only retaining enough of it to keep Sebastian from wondering what it was that he got up to while he was gone from the house.

It had felt so good just to be and now he was trying to put on a show, which was different from letting himself relax around Sebastian. There was nothing he could say that would even approach acceptable. 

Sabrina cleared her throat. "Well I see you started drinking without us then. I'm glad I left the girls at home. You'll have to meet the rest of the family another time, Jim. When Sebastian brings you around to my house."

Which had damned sure better be sooner than he next had to bear the presence of Augustus Moran. He had done a fair amount of looking into Sebastian's family history and he had expected the man to be a bastard. It was just surprising how much so, he supposed. "I feel sure that will be acceptable."

Sebastian and Augustus seemed bound in some kind of staring contest, until Sebastian raised his eyebrows sharply and stood up, pulling Jim along with him. "Dinner, then. I can't imagine why it took me so long to bring Jim 'round."

"Hmph." The old man made a disgusted sound. "At least you could do yourself the favour of getting a wife."

Yes, that was certainly sound advice, Jim supposed. Augustus Moran had kept both a wife and a Companion, and he wouldn't lay odds that the ass had made both of them miserable. A glance at Lord Trevelyan revealed a neutral expression and there was nothing in particular giving away the fact that he had only his wife, but, well. The wife alone was proof of that, standing tall beside him, her posture turned slightly in his direction and away from her father. The way that Sebastian bristled quite explicitly showed how both of them felt about the matter, and Jim carefully mirrored Jeremy's pose... for now.

"I feel sure that supper is likely getting cold as we speak. Perhaps we could go and give ourselves indigestion instead of standing about staring at one another?" Sabrina had one dark brow raised, expression sardonic. Yes, he might actually approve of her. More or less.

"The cake's always good." Sebastian curled an arm around Jim's waist, pulling at him as their angry, stiff backed cluster of people started to move. Jim had been to more cordial criminal dealings just that morning, but they moved out into the hallway and towards another set of wide double doors.

"Don't be facetious, Sebastian."

"Oh, that was in no way facetious. Sarcastic possibly." He knew Jim liked cake. Pretty much anything sweet, in all honesty, and so it was more by way of an incentive to behave. Not that he likely realised it was Jim stabbing his father that he should be worrying about, but still.

The inside of the room was crisply elegant, wood walls polished to a high shine, light in all the appropriate places. Yes, someone in the family had taste. "What? The cake's good," Sebastian insisted. "Margaret's an excellent cook. There's probably a metaphor there in skipping to dessert first."

Sabrina gave a laugh. "Well, there is nothing wrong with skipping to the best part. I've always preferred to save the best for last."

Something about that made Jeremy smile. Funny, they seemed to quite like one another. From what Jim could tell, that didn't seem to be a prerequisite for marriages. "Yes, darling. I know."

Then again, maybe those two had married out of something akin to love. It was hard to guess, Jim supposed. It wasn't as if it had ever been a factor for him. Sebastian was simply it, all of it. He steered Jim to a seat and settled in beside him. They were all sitting too close to Augustus, in Jim's opinion, even if Sebastian was between himself and the man.

He sat through no small amount of pissy grumbling on the part of Sebastian's father even as Richard began creaking his way round the table to serve them. For the most part, he could ignore it, he found, by keeping one hand on Sebastian's thigh, fingers digging in tightly.

Sebastian never flinched.

Something about that made him... interested, he supposed was the best description.

He wasn't sure what to do about it, about Sebastian. Not in a longterm sense. It was something for him to eat his supper and ponder while they finally started up something that resembled a normal conversation.

"So, I hear that you may be up for promotion again sometime soon," Sabrina offered over the soup.

"It'll be my last promotion for ages if I get it," Sebastian answered. "I'm a little young for it. I think they just want to give it to me and then slot me into training duty for the rest of my life."

"Nothing wrong with training duty," Sir Augustus offered. "Step to other things. Light colonel is all well and good, but full colonel. That's a political stepping stone, that is."

"I miss the field." He stabbed his roast, and cut a bite.

Jim was mostly pushing things around on his own plate (it tasted more or less like meat, and that was all there was to say for it in his opinion) and growing more antsy by the moment. "He should do what makes him happy. It's stupid to do something if you don't like it."

"You're, what, how old are you? Seventeen, eighteen? You lived in a nunnery your whole life, hand reared in care. You know nothing about _work_ or the world except fucking and pleasing my son." He could feel Sebastian's thigh flex slightly under his hand, and his own temper sparked, wild and hot. He could feel it tightening in his throat, the deep, sick well of anger and a thing he would never, never, never, never admit was madness.

"He's smart, he knows how to think for himself. It's... I'm going to negotiate with my commander, see if I can get back out there." Back out there because that was what he wanted, and Jim's fingers clutched Sebastian's thigh so tightly he had to be leaving bruises.

Sebastian's hand dropped from the table, squeezing Jim's fingers gently. Sabrina sighed quietly. "I'm just worried that you're going to get killed out there, Sebastian. This assignment is your reward for I'm sure excellent service."

Yes, very likely. Jim didn't want him dead, either, but the sheer glut of disdain coming from Augustus Moran was going to overwhelm him. He stood sharply, chair falling over with a clatter that drew all eyes.

"Jim, Jim." Sebastian stood, and the chair didn't knock over as he reached to haul Jim in against him. "C'mon, sit back down, baby."

"What in god's name is wrong with that boy?" No one else stood, though.

It was drawing up, hot and thick, and he knew that if he didn't leave, someone would have to bleed. Someone, and he wanted so badly, more than anything, to reach out and grasp his fork and just... Just so many things, wanted to struggle, wanted to scream because Sebastian belonged to him, he _belonged to him_ , and he would kill anyone, anyone who, who...

"Sweetheart?" That was Sabrina's husband, and Jim jerked when she came close.

"Okay, fuck, just back off." Sebastian hugged him tightly, and then he was dragging him towards the door. "C'mon, we'll go sit somewhere quiet."

Quiet was good. Quiet was excellent, and maybe he could reign himself back in, maybe...

"Hmph. Always said it was a bad choice."

That statement was a pure cold shard of ice right to his brain, and he went stiff, halfway turning before Sebastian got a better grip on him and pulled him out of the room. He didn't realise he was growling and struggling for several minutes, and by then, they were somewhere else. Fuck only knew where. It was another room and it was small and quiet. The walls were still wood and the sofa they were on was massive. Sebastian wasn't letting go. He had a tight hold on him, and Jim honestly didn't remember sitting down. "Just breathe, baby."

Breathe, and he pulled in one sharp, shaky breath, and then another, and then a third. He hadn't lost control like that in... ever. Not ever, and then he gasped so deeply it hurt and shuddered. "I want to..." Kill him. Skin him, sell him for fucking sausages. 

"Okay. It's okay." Sebastian splayed fingers against his back, rubbing gently. "Christ. Just calm down."

Calm down, and it wasn't that simple, it wasn't, but Sebastian held him tightly, so close that he could feel the warm thrum of his pulse, and Jim tried desperately to control himself, to get his head into a reasonable place. "I wanted to stab him. With my _fork_."

"Yeah. Can't let you do that, he's a Benefactor, remember? You'd end up a splotch on a wall and then I'd have to pay the bastard money for it. And you don't want to end up on the evening news, right?" He just kept stroking and holding onto Jim as if he could hold all of him together tight, could keep him controlled, could keep his mind in place so that he could just fucking breathe.

They sat there for a long time, Sebastian petting him, and Jim wanting to fight his way free, to get up and make his way back downstairs. He hadn't had anyone killed yet; he wasn't powerful enough, although he was close. So close, and he had wondered if he could.

At least now he had a fair answer for that question.

Sebastian pressed kisses against his temple, fingers rubbing at his back still. "You ever think there's a reason I want to go back downrange, Jimmy?"

Jimmy. Like he was something sweet, and the fact that it made him smile just a little was utterly disgusting. "I assume you enjoy the experience."

The next words were said against his skin, close and comfortable. "Because when I get up on that cliff edge you're standing on, I go make a sniper hide somewhere and just take fuckers out until I feel better."

Oh, god. God, that was. That was so good to hear, and he melted into Sebastian with a whimper because it wasn't only good. It was hot, and he shifted, leaned just so and sucked a bruise on his throat. "Fuck me."

He exhaled in a whine, a slow sigh of noise as he leaned back, pulling Jim with him. "Hmn, right here? Still time for dessert, and I don't have lube."

"I don't want dessert." He was adamantly sure of that. "If you take me back, I don't know if I can control myself. He's still a fucker."

"We'll go downstairs and kiss my sister g'night and then go home." He shifted, sitting up a little more.

"No. Fuck me." Right there, then, loud enough so Augustus Moran would hear them and know they were fucking in his house.

There was a small snort, half a laugh from Sebastian. "I'll stop somewhere and get you ice cream on the way home, then." He kissed Jim's temple, a faint scrape of teeth. "Get your pants off."

It was always lovely when he got his way. Soon he would have Sebastian trained to do as he wanted much more quickly, but for now he stood and began to unbutton his trousers with a lazy flick of his wrist, smirking at him. Sebastian might not be brilliant -- few were -- but he was damned fast on the uptake sometimes. He had an instinct about him, or maybe it was just a familiarity with what Jim was thinking.

He reached down, and started to unbuckle his own belt. "Christ. I didn't even think I could get it up here and here I am."

Jim could feel the weight of his stare even as he managed to get his own trousers and pants around his thighs, low, near his knees. He felt giddy from the thread of desire that he had caused all by being... none of the words he had for it were ones that he wanted to use, but the thing of it was that Sebastian understood. He understood what had happened even if Jim hadn't thought he would, and that was enough. "I would like to think I will always be on the receiving end of this particular reaction."

"I think I can manage that." Sebastian started to stand up. "Kneel on the sofa and put your hands on the back. Without lube..."

"Yeah." He knew, or thought he had a good idea, anyway. Didn't matter; Sebastian was going to have him, here and now, on the fucking sofa. He was going to come all fucking over it and then he was never coming back to this house. At least not until the old man was dead. Then he was going to knock out a few walls, possibly set the carriage house on fire, and redo it all.

He had more or less expected no-holds-barred sex -- Sebastian pushing into him and fucking him blind, and he was a little afraid of that in some ways. The size of him was intimidating, and the idea of that much stretching and friction set his pulse racing with something a bit like dismay. Part of him wanted it desperately and part of him didn't. He settled his knees, got his hands on the back of the sofa and braced, ready for Sebastian to thrust into him; he didn't expect to feel the man spread his ass cheeks wide, and then the pressure of a cheek against his skin before Sebastian leaned in and licked his crack.

Oh.

Oh, _fuck_. Fuck, and maybe he said that, maybe he said all sorts of things. He wasn't entirely sure because he had gone fucking stiff as a board and then had to bury his face against his hands immediately to keep from shrieking because it felt so amazing.

There was a long lick, and then there was the squirming pressure of tongue trying to get _into_ him, and Sebastian was a dirty filthy pervert and didn't seem to care about anything at all. It made him pant, and want to give the dirtiest noises possible. Made him want to scrabble desperately to hold onto himself, to keep some sense of being James fucking Moran, but every swipe of tongue, every wet lick, drove him just a little further away from being himself and closer to being a man desperate for more of what he was getting.

Tongue up his ass, deep, too, feeling Sebastian breathe out hard through his nose against him. His hands flexed against the back of Jim's thighs, holding him, and that was, that, yes. Yes, because he was shaking all over and he couldn't stop whimpering, biting at his lip because yeah, he wanted to fuck in this house, but he didn't want them getting kicked out of it until he had been. Somewhere in there, a finger slipped into him alongside that squirm of tongue, and fuck, fuck, fuck. He was going to come too soon, he was, if it kept up like that.

Tongue and a finger, wet thick squirming and spit up his asshole before Sebastian pulled back, stopped and moved his hands up, keeping Jim spread. "Fuck. Hold still."

Now was the time to be worried, anticipatory for what came next. Jim bit into his lip and glanced back over his shoulder to see Sebastian.

Sebastian lifted his eyebrows at Jim, and then Jim felt the slow push of him against him, burning and stretching. It made him bite down harder, and he could feel his brow knitting. He was fiercely determined, though, and made the effort to bear down, breathing hard through his nose, and when Sebastian managed to get the head inside of his spit-slick hole, all he could do was whine. He was softening, a little, but a quick reach down solved that problem almost immediately.

Oh, god. Oh, god, he was on fire, ass split on Sebastian's fantastic cock, and he could not stop shaking.

"Going to start carrying lube," Sebastian murmured, making short little motions that made Jim pant harder, stroking him off in time with it. He kissed the back of Jim's neck, bit at the nape, and oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, it was all he could think, and he wanted to push back and take it, and he didn't want to at all because if it was just in, Sebastian jerking his shaft, there was no way he could. No way, but thinking about it made him harder, made him more frantic, and then Sebastian quickened the pace of his hand and oh. Oh. OH.

"Fuck, yeah." A half a motion into him, deeper, and Sebastian panted hard against the back of his neck. "C'mon, c'mon..."

Come on, and that was it. That was it, just there, all of it in combination, pain and sex and Sebastian jerking him fucking off, and Jim gave a sound that he couldn't keep in, didn't bother hiding. He just spilled all over the back of the sofa, and it was a whiteout of an orgasm, brain clicking offline.

Sebastian pulled him backwards, holding onto him as he pulled out. "There we go. Let's get your pants back up."

His ass was killing him. Utterly, and he could feel the steady wink of it contracting and loosening, slick with Sebastian's semen and whatever spit might be left. His knees didn't want to hold him up, either, but Sebastian was doing a fine job of it, tugging things into place, buttoning the inner button on the waist before doing the outer one and tugging up his zip. "I don't think I can't sit like this." The sound of that was amusing, slurred from the sheer force of the pleasure. A glance down revealed that the back of the sofa was something of a mess.

Ah, well.

"You can sit cross legged in the car if you put your seatbelt on." He had an arm tight around Jim's upper chest as he got everything back into place. "Let's go downstairs and leave."

"And you promised me ice cream." Mmm. Yes, if he could sit that long.

"Drive through," Sebastian promised, nuzzling at his neck. "And then I'll finish you off in the shower."

Again.

If he had known how amazing orgasms could be, he would have hatched some sort of plan to demand he be brought home _before_ he finished his first degree.

"Let's go, then."

They started to walk down the stairs, and his legs felt like jelly under him with every step, Sebastian humming quietly to himself as he helped him down. "Just loiter here for a moment, I'll stick my head in to say g'night to Brina."

Yes, that was helpful. No need to try stabbing anyone with the silverware. Just as well. Jim was fairly certain his legs wouldn't support it, and so he gave a sound something like agreement and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

It was quiet and peaceful and he felt so much better, ratcheted down and calmer again. He could be patient long enough to wait out whatever new ruckus Sebastian was out there starting. Might even be patient enough to just stay there throughout, honestly, because his eyes were trying to close, and the steady throb from his bottom was significant.

A little sweet treat, a nice hot shower, and sleep. They could sleep the sleep of weekends, sleep in in the morning. Sleep in through Sebastian's bizarre morning run as well, that sounded quite nice.

The yelling coming from the dining room didn't sound nice at all. It tried to drag Jim out of his well-fucked stupor and he refused to allow it. There would be no containing his fury if he did, and he would not, would _**not**_ , be tucked away somewhere with his brains dribbling out his ears. He was mostly sure it wouldn't come to that, but he also had a feeling Sebastian might try to wrap him up in a towel or blankets the next time. The crushing hold had been surprisingly effective, he had to say. And the sex.

When the door slammed, he looked up to see Sebastian marching toward him. "And that's it. Let's go. You can knock the sideview mirror off his car when we leave."

Well. The night truly was perking up then, and he couldn't help the mean little smile that snuck over his mouth. "Excellent." He might even manage to get his legs to work as they wandered out to the car.

* * *

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with Jim. He was winging the whole thing, and as stressful as seeing his father was, he still hadn't expected that reaction from anyone, never mind Jim. It was a certainty that his father thought he was overreacting, but no; he recognised that moment in his gut, in himself, enough to know that it hadn't been him being melodramatic. It had been something else altogether; a beast that would only be satisfied with blood, and Sebastian recognised that. It was a perfect inverse reaction to his own need to lie in wait for the perfect shot, and watch as someone's head exploded like a ripe melon. Whatever it was, it was less the stalking hunter and a great deal more the man-eating tiger.

That should probably frighten him more than it did.

It didn't frighten him in the least. If he were honest, Jim had been showing little tells, little flashes of teeth since he'd brought him home -- probably testing Sebastian to see how he'd react to it, and it was hard to guess if he'd risen to the occasion or merely disappointed Jim entirely. He was sleeping at last, fucked out and boneless in bed, and that gave Sebastian space to slip down to his study and think about what to do next. Not only with Jim, but in the long term sense of what to do. He could keep plodding along in the boring part of a military career, he could wait it out and get back to the field, or he could wait it out and never get back to the field because as he went up in rank his time out in the thick of it was going to sharply decline.

Sometimes a man had to know when to cut his losses. Training was all well and good so long as he wasn't the one doing it. Even training snipers wasn't the same, wasn't even remotely what he wanted to be doing. He could retire now. It wouldn't be a problem and then he would be able to spend more time in other pursuits. Travel. Keep shooting people for a living, which sounded a hell of a lot better than training someone else to do it.

Retirement before he hit his late-thirties, though. He'd need to take time and finish building a front. Maybe. Start a small business that he could own but pay someone else to run. That could account for travel to those parts of the world without drawing undue attention, and he could take Jim with him. He had a feeling that Jim would quite like to travel, although he wasn't entirely certain how he would feel about the waiting involved in setting up a proper kill. No, Jim would have other ideas. Maybe not yet, maybe he hadn't reached that conclusion, although Sebastian didn't see how he could have done anything but. Even a man-eater knew its nature. Probably better than most anyone else did.

It was just a matter of working out how to bring it up in conversation.

The low buzz of his mobile carried him out of thought and made him grope it out of his housecoat. He knew it was Brina before he even saw the screen, and he thumbed over the slide to answer. "Hey."

 _"Hi."_ It was a little tentative, which wasn't much like her. _"You all right?"_

"Yeah. I'm all right. You didn't have to call, Brina." He wondered what made her tentative. He expected outright yelling.

 _"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I had to call."_ There was an undertone to it, faintly sharp and at the same time uncertain. _"What happened at dinner..."_

"Yeah." He exhaled, leaned back in his chair. "Yeah. Jim got wound up."

 _"Wound up? I don't think that is in any way accurate, Sebastian."_ She didn't sound exasperated, just worried. _"Father nearly had an apoplectic fit."_

"He was tired of listening to Father's shit." And so was Sebastian, but he had better impulse control.

_"That did not look like someone tired of listening to Father. Are you sure, Sebastian? That you made the right Choice? Because I am so..."_

He rubbed at his temple, closed his eyes as he held the phone up to his ear. "Fuck. I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear what you asked. He's mine." He couldn't unmake his Choice. It was made. It was his, and changing it wasn't anything like a fucking option.

_"I know. I know, you know I do. I know how you are, and you are nothing like Father. I knew that when you made the Choice, Sebastian, I knew what you would do, how you would be, it's just..."_

"He's... He's a good fit. For me." Sebastian exhaled hard. "I know how to handle that. God, you remember how I was before I learned self control?"

She had to. He had been a wreck, angry, fists clenched at the world, his only determination a solid refusal to turn into their father. He had made his Choice with that in mind, that he didn't want some brain-dead Companion with a lack of education who kowtowed to him and some fucking trophy wife. _"I remember. It wasn't so..."_

"No, it was. It really was. I hid a lot of shit from you, Brina. The fights? I was so angry sometimes I'd just shake. I was so glad I placed for my service into the army." It was an outlet, a perfect one. Fuck, getting paid to be pointed at people and sent off like a weapon.

To kill without any need for explaining the need.

To put his father's fucking obsession with guns and hunting to good use.

He could hear her shift, could almost see the way she licked her lips before speaking. _"Darling, honestly, that... that was mostly hormones, it was..."_

"Still a problem for me." He scratched at his neck, looking up at the ceiling. "I've got a lot better control over it now."

_"But never like that. Never."_

No. And that much was true. He had never been as uncontrolled as Jim had been, never had that sort of moment of utter and complete fury that overtook his body and made him so hot he couldn't remember exactly what had happened.

"No that out of sorts with it, no. But I understand it enough to handle him. We sat in the quiet until he felt better." And he could do that again. He was strong enough to get a hold of him unless he hit a growth spurt, although it was unlikely at his age. Then things might get interesting, but even so, Sebastian didn't think he'd ever bulk up enough that he couldn't hang on to him.

_"It looked more like you were trying to control a spitting cat."_

"I'll throw a blanket over his head next time," Sebastian grinned at his phone. "He's fine. He's so sharp, Brina. So very smart, and it's easy. I like his company."

 _"Jeremy and I talked about it."_ She paused. _"You know you can always come to us if you change your mind."_

"Come to you for what? I'm..." He wasn't even sure he was following her just then, because, god. Come to her for what?

_"Just if something goes wrong or... I don't know!"_

"Okay. I know it looked bad tonight, but at home and out and doing stuff, it's all very. Domestic." Also pornographic, but he didn't need to say that out loud. It was pretty much understood, Sebastian guessed. "I make breakfast and he kisses me on the way out the door." Simple. Easy. Kind of sweet, except when he was trying to get his dick into Jim's tight ass with nothing more than spit and hope. Just thinking about it made him shift, even though he was fairly certain he wasn't going to get hard. Not after the last couple of hours.

Sabrina sighed and he could hear her giving in from miles away. God, his father was such a bastard. She would have been an amazing woman if he hadn't spent so much time grinding her down. _"All right, Basty."_

"Father's just everything that's ever pissed him off." He started to stand up. "Anyway, I should get to bed. I'll call you back later about coming round to see the girls and just... something calmer."

 _"All right. Bringing Jim with you?"_ He could hear the reservations she had about that in her voice.

Bizarre as hell. Just as well he'd done an excellent job of hiding his problems from them, that he'd started his service promptly on time. "Yeah, that is how that goes. He's not an unruly dog, he's my Companion."

 _"I'm not suggesting he is!"_ Her exasperation made him want to smile. It wasn't the truth but she wanted it to be so he would let it go. For now. It was for the best because he wasn't going to argue with her. Jim might be fucked out, but he was close behind, and he had other things to do. Decisions to make. _"Just..."_

"I know. Be careful. I am, Brina." He smiled as he started to stand up. "And I'm tired, and you probably are as well. So I'll ring you back in the morning, all right?"

 _"All right. You'll have to catch me at the office, I'm afraid."_ She didn't sound as if she found that very exciting and he hated that. He knew there were careers she would have found more to her liking but their father had been adamant that none of them were acceptable.

"It's a Saturday," Sebastian reminded, rubbing at his eyes. "Even the army doesn't make me work on weekends unless something goes strange with my men."

 _"Yes, well. The army isn't doing its best to balance out Mycroft bloody Holmes, is it?"_ God, but that had to be a misery. _"The girls will be glad to see you when you come round. We'll talk again tomorrow."_

"Tomorrow. Good luck with that pompous twit. I suppose his Companion coming home didn't help?" That was just being nosy, but he tidied up his papers and turned the light out behind him, leaning a hip on the wall.

_"Back at work the next day. Who does that? You took two weeks vacation."_

"And the sex was fantastic. Which should tell you how the coming home is. G'night, Brina." Sebastian hung up then, and wandered upstairs in the dark.

He would need to make decisions and put plans in place, but for now, Jim was warm and asleep in his bed. Some things should always be taken advantage of, even if it was just the opportunity for a cuddle.

Jim was still asleep when he got back upstairs, letting familiarity with the place guide him through the dark. His skin was warm and it was much better to be half-dressed in bed than skulking around the study. The shift of his limbs beneath the sheets seemed to catch at his attention, and Jim mumbled, gave him some sort of half-muttered cranky response, and then settled once Sebastian had pulled him against him, back to chest.

It was strange that given the events of the evening, he could hardly imagine being prouder of his Companion than he was in that moment.

* * *

It wasn't that Jim had not considered all of the angles involved when he had decided to take a job that was clearly connected to the Russian mob. He had. It was all a matter of playing the averages until he found himself on the wrong side of those numbers, which left him in a fuck all mess. It also left him in need of a gun for hire, and he was not ready as yet to coax Sebastian to the proverbial dark side.

Still, Sebastian was going to beat him home. And then, then he was in it. And he was never going to get out of there without backup unless it was in pieces.

Fuck.

He had at least had the good sense required to bring a weapon. Whoever came through the door was going to have one hell of a surprise coming, at any rate. That was better than sitting there trembling. Honestly, he was fairly certain there was something wrong with him because it wasn't from fear. It was fury, and he wanted to go out there and kill every last one of them with... he believed it was referred to as extreme prejudice. And fast. But he knew it wouldn't work, even if he surprised them. The best he could hope for was to scamper off with them all stunned that he had actually had the balls.

Might work. Might not, but one way or another it was looking as though he had no choice.

Slipping one hand into his pocket to pull out his mobile, he carefully hid himself a bit more tightly in the dark corner he had found and dialled Sebastian.

 _"Hello?"_ It was a suspicious question, getting called from a number he didn't recognise. Just the sound of his voice made Jim's chest tighten even as the rest of his body loosened just a bit, preparing himself.

"Sebastian." His voice sounded off and he knew it. "I hate to admit it, but I have made a mistake. I think I'm rather stuck with it now."

 _"Where are you?"_ He didn't ask what it was, didn't ask what Jim meant or waste time like that. That was good, that was in his favour. "And what do you need."

His laugh was soft and dark. "So many things. I don't think that you want to know." He didn't want to tell him, either. It wasn't time, it wasn't right. Fuck.

 _"If you don't tell me where you are, baby, I can't help you out."_ That, that was going to have to go. It wasn't condescending -- it was rather fond, and he wondered what boyfriend the Sebastian'd had that had left 'baby' in his vocabulary.

He thought he saw movement out past the office door and he shifted, got a good line of sight. "I out-thought myself. I was just... being normal is so boring, darling." Just in case they were able to hear him, he didn't want them to know Sebastian's name. "And the days were so long and I didn't think it would come to this. Honestly."

 _"Tell me where you are."_ He was repeating it like a broken record.

"I would rather not." His voice settled, became even more quiet. They were coming, he knew it. After they had managed to search the rest of the warehouse, the office would be next. "You'll get hurt."

 _"And you won't?"_ Well, yes, quite likely he would. It was too late for last minute rescues, after all, and Sebastian was far too far away no matter where he was just then. Still at work.

"That, my Benefactor, is a realised fact." Whispering now, and he was thinking so fast that he could practically see probabilities dancing in the darkness. Carefully, quietly, he slipped out of his niche and towards the small bathroom. "But I did want to say goodbye before then."

He could hear silence on the other end, Sebastian's brain no doubt spinning and reaching for conclusions. _"You're a melodramatic prick. Hang up the phone, kill the bastards, and get home."_

God, he had never thought this relationship would be anything except tedious and standard, something that would make him want to stab the man who had Chosen him. "Would love to, darling, but there are quite a number of them." Yeah, and the voices were coming closer. Carefully, he slipped into the loo and glanced around before shutting the door impossibly quietly. Not trusting Sebastian from the start might have been a miscalculation on his part, and so he made a leap of faith. "Canada Square. Brick front, looks like no one's been there in years. Tire treads heading to the back." He licked his lips. "I'd be glad to see you." Still, he needed to be quiet now, not to draw attention to himself, and Sebastian seemed to sense it. He was quiet on the other end, waiting as well.

Carefully, he slipped the phone into his pocket again and closed the lid of the toilet, glancing up towards the ceiling. It was a bit higher in this room, and there was a shelf halfway up the wall. Maybe with a little luck and a damn fine sense of balance (which he was frankly sure he lacked), he could crawl up and balance himself on a wall, just disappear.

He might get lucky and they wouldn't even check in there. He moved carefully, standing on the toilet lid first. It slid just a bit and he held his breath, head cocked to the side. Nothing, and so he reached up and laid one hand against the wall for balance. The shelf was almost in reach and he stretched, just a bit, until he could lay one hand against it before putting one foot on the tank and realising that his stupidly expensive shoes were going to be a detriment.

Apparently, having men with guns after him made him a bit stupid. He should have thought of that before now and it was too late, so he would have to do the best he could with what he had.

Clearly one miscalculation tumbled out and became five, became ten. He was left standing there like an idiot when the bathroom door opened. "You little bastard!"

Oh, shit.

Shit, because he had seriously miscalculated, and if he lived through it, he was going to remember this. Sebastian's gun was in his hand even as he turned, halfway tumbling off of the tank. "Ah, ah." It was pointed right at the idiot who hadn't had the good sense to to bring a gun of his own. How sad. "Now that wasn't a very nice thing to say."

The man started to put his hands up, but looked over his shoulder to shout, "He's in here!"

Well, fuck. Steady hand, Jim decided, and he didn't bother reaching into his pocket to turn off the phone. Instead, he got off a single shot, and watched dispassionately as the Russian's head exploded in a shower of gore, then he slid the phone from his pocket and behind the toilet. The others were coming, quickly, and he was in as good a position as any to hold them off even if it wouldn't be for very long.

It was a shame the gun didn't have a silencer. He knew they were going to come running for him now, but still. Maybe he'd be able to pick off one or two more before he was overwhelmed or they got smart and looked for backup.

He was definitely in the soup. Sebastian would know he had been doing something shady, and who knew how that would end. He hadn't seemed shocked or angry, and it was honestly such a shame that it was all going to end so badly.

"Bastard. Scrawny little fuck!" Two came in this time and at that rate he was going to run out of bullets.

Ah, well. Nothing much he could do about that, and so he put them down, too, showers of gore, and he did enjoy that perhaps a bit more than was necessary.

Three bullets down, and it was all terribly predictable. One next, and two, and then someone got smart and actually just aimed around the corner. Damn. If he survived this, he would need to talk to his tailor about body armor and how best to hide it.

Ha. The fact that he was even considering it was laughable.

If he lived, well, there was nothing else to consider as he shot back. He would live, and if he died it didn't matter if he worried about living beforehand. He fired off another shot, winged a bastard, and then it _jammed_.

For a second, Jim could only look at it, the shock of betrayal registering. If he hadn't, he probably could have grabbed one off of the bodies, and that was another mistake to remember. He would if he lived through whatever came next, but they were quick and they rushed him, grabbed him by his clothes and his arms and hauled him forward in a rush, out of the bathroom and into the office space he'd first tried to hide in. "You little shit! I'm going to cut your teeth out!"

Well.

That was one thing to be worried about, yes.

This, Jim decided, was going to suck.

* * *

He'd jumped into his car as soon as he'd gotten the call from Jim. Then it was a matter of driving to Canada Square, of rushing to find what his damned bizarre Companion had done. There wasn't any time to think, and he was at least headed there when he heard the gunshot through the phone. Heard it all in a distant way because his phone was still on but he wasn't going to let it distract him.

Jesus.

Jesus fuck, fuck, fuck, a constant litany in his head because what in the hell had Jim been doing while he wasn't at home? He should have known something was going on. Hell. If he wanted to be honest with himself, he had known. He just hadn't expected it would be the kind of shit that got him fucking shot.

He'd thought it was maybe... He wasn't sure. Drug dealing or fencing or illegal cards games, but perhaps he'd underestimated Jim and the things he might get up to if he left him alone to go to work every damn day. They were both lucky that he was closer to where Jim was just then than he would've been if he'd been at home, and that traffic wasn't shit.

Maybe he would still have all of his parts by the time he got there. From the sound of it, they'd be incredibly fucking lucky, and just thinking about it made him sick. He'd worry about it later. He had a spare gun and he just hoped he didn't have to commit any atrocities while still in uniform because there wasn't time to change.

He couldn't stop looking at the clock. Couldn't stop watching it move one hell of a lot faster than it should, moving and moving and moving, and he was slow. He was going to be too fucking slow and his pulse was sickeningly fast, stomach in knots.

After the shots, either the burner Jim had been using had died or... well, he didn't know what, but it made him sick to consider it.

He parked up, and launched out of his car running, car keys in one hard and pistol in the other with no damn idea what he was headed into. A fucking mess, a war, who the fuck knew what. Funny thing was, he'd have said before today that it wasn't anything like love. It was a relationship, it was a perk for his military duty, it was who the fuck knew what, but running into a building where he might (or was probably going to) get shot for rushing in where angels feared to tread, his heart in his throat, he knew what it was.

That dumb bastard.

He could hear Jim screaming as soon as he hit the door and hauled it open, upstairs, sounded like it was upstairs, and he took the stairs two at a time. Silence wasn't going to be his ally -- just speed in that moment because he needed to get to him, needed to make that stop, and he hoped like hell that he had enough ammunition on him to take care of things.

Another scream, loud and echoing, and it set his teeth on edge, made his hands want to tighten into fists. If he found Jim permanently injured in any way, he was going to kill them all.

He might just do it regardless, and he shouted as he reached the top of the stairs, hoping to draw them off of Jim. "I've got the police coming behind me, you bastards!"

Well, that did catch their attention, and sent a couple of them scattering like roaches when someone flipped on the lights.

The ones who didn't were the ones he needed to worry about; Jim was held up between two of them, limp and bloody, but he gave a vicious grin when he saw Sebastian. "I told you it was a bad idea." Sing-song, yeah, and it sounded positively gleeful.

"Let him go," Sebastian ordered, holding the gun out in a comfortable stance. "You get one fucking warning."

The big guy was clearly the one in charge. He looked like a reject from eighties classic rock bands, and his heavy scowl said a lot. So did the pliers in his hand. "One warning." The scorn was thick as his accent. "I have many men. You have only yourself."

"My government pays me to kill fuckers." He shrugged, pulling his trigger without hesitation, and dropped the big guy with a bullet right through his cheek.

Well. That did put the cat amongst the pigeons, and it didn't surprise him when Jim slammed his foot down on the insole of the fellow on the left. He twisted free and nonchalantly grabbed the gun at the man's waistband before the one on the right could stop him.

"You ruined my suit, and that was very naughty of you." It was funny, how it sounded as though he were chiding a toddler. "I did say you would regret it."

He shot the one on the right first, letting Jim keep playing with his toy at that point. He twisted a little, looked over his shoulder to make sure the others weren't coming back.

It was perhaps a bit of a surprise when Jim shot the fellow before he could get in much by way of grovelling, but the true surprise was that it wasn't a kill shot. No, just shot him in the leg, and then watched as the man tumbled down, howling. Within seconds, he had his foot planted atop the man's desperately clutching hands, too.

"And my shoes. Since they are a waste, I think I want to enjoy this for moment." Never mind his bloody nose, the awkward angle of his arm.

"Don't take too long. We're going." He checked over his shoulder again, and then kept his gun level on the bastard awkwardly dying on the floor.

The grin he got from Jim was wide and brilliant and bloody. "Of course, darling." That was that, as though all he had needed to do was ask. Another shot rang out, the man's head splattered across the cement, and Jim walked towards him nonchalantly. "Shall we?"

"Now." He reached for Jim's hand, and hauled him forward. He'd assess Jim's injuries when they got home, rifle the barrels of the guns and work on covering anything else he needed done.

He managed to hustle him all the way to the car, and damn. He'd have to do something about the car, too.

Fuck.

"Ow," Jim said sadly once they were driving away.

"What'd they do to you? Christ, what'd you do to them?" He kept his eyes on the road, but he was listening and he'd heard gunshots.

Jim's laugh was shaky underneath. He didn't figure anyone else would have been able to tell. "That would be starting from the end, my Benefactor. So much better to start from the beginning. After the judicious application of bandages and drugs, I think."

He didn't snap at him though it was damned tempting and instead rephrased the question in a way that he hoped his oh so smart-he-was-stupid Companion could follow. "Where are you hurt?"

When he glanced over, Jim seemed to be considering the question. "It feels a bit like everywhere," he mulled. "But my left arm seems to be reluctant to participate, and my nose aches quite a lot."

Dislocated or strained and possibly a broken nose. Packing it would help regardless, Sebastian decided as he drove. "Anything else?"

Jim went quiet for a few long moments, and he looked over at him again. His eyes were mostly closed and it made Sebastian's pulse thrum with worry. When he spoke, it was low and quiet. "They hadn't started pulling teeth yet, so no. Just strains, I expect."

"Don't _ever_ do something like that again without someone watching your back," Sebastian growled, hands still on the steering wheel. If it weren't for the fact that his eyes were turning black and his arm seemed to be a fuck-all mess, Jim would be over his lap by the side of the road until his ass was fucking crimson.

A grunt came by way of answer. "I didn't think It was time to tell you what I was doing. Those other things were all so stupidly normal and I couldn't..."

"Christ. Can't we have a little balance in our lives? If everything you do is obviously criminal, there's not a lot of time for enjoyment."

He meant it. He honestly did, and when he glanced over at Jim, he expected... he had no idea what. Expected Jim to be looking back at him, expected him not to care. Instead he was biting his lip, carefully not looking in Sebastian's direction.

Well, fuck.

He wasn't sure how to take that, how to respond to it. "There's nothing wrong with making pancakes and lazing in bed before going off to steal someone's bank account. Or whatever the fuck you were doing."

Ah, that was quite a lot better. That got him a tentative curl of Jim's lip, and he relaxed a little. It must have jostled him unpleasantly because he moaned. "Ow."

"Home and bed, and then I'll start covering it all up," Sebastian assured him. He was going to need Jim to start at the beginning just to see what else the other man needed covered up and hadn't thought of covering. There was no way that he had thought of everything, even if he believed that he had.

"I'll need to make a few calls." Yes. He probably should, preferably before Sebastian lost his temper.

"Going to tell me to whom?" The implication was that the answer should've been a yes.

There was a heavy pause, as though he honestly needed to consider the matter. "You wouldn't know any of them. What does it matter?"

"Because you're not going to keep me out of this. I can't keep you safe if you keep me in the dark," Sebastian growled.

Jim's dark eyes were wide, all false surprise and something else. Hope, maybe. Who the fuck could say. "I had intended to tell you once I had everything in order. I hadn't expected to need your skills so soon."

"You miscalculated then." Which scared the shit out of him, because how many other miscalculations had Jim made as well that were waiting to fall on them? "Never work alone."

Reaching up, Jim gave his nose a tentative touch and whimpered. "Ow." Ha! He wasn't about to offer sympathy. He was too angry and far too worried. "I have minions. I need a partner." For his criminal undertakings, apparently, and god. He had basically had the fucking Centre raise a criminal. He had no idea how to deal with that because they'd just done exactly what he'd asked.

"How about the damned obvious solution to that, Jimmy?"

Yeah. He was going to beat his ass when he wasn't looking like he'd just been worked over by Russian mobsters. "I couldn't be sure how you would take it even once I realised about the bribes in Afghanistan. I had to be sure of you."

And in his personal papers. Unbelievable. "It was quite a bit more than bribes." Then again he couldn't read Pashtu, Dari or Gulf Arabic, but he probably had sat there with a translation program and tried to slog through it.

"Yes, well, I'm still learning the languages." He sounded touchy about it, too. "I had to be sure."

Jim's voice was slurring a bit, his eyes looking faintly glassy, tired. It was no wonder but also worrisome. "All right." He was holding right onto the speed limit, but they were close. He stopped looking over at Jim, and just drove until the car was up the driveway. "We're home." 

Jim looked up at that pronouncement, face tired. "All right." As though that were the only thing he could say to Sebastian's pronouncement. He reached into a pocket and pulled out an unfamiliar phone. Sebastian wasted no time in reaching over to take it from Jim as he turned off the car.

"Taking care of you first." He didn't expect Jim to be open and honest about his injuries, so he was just going to have to start with stripping him naked and putting him in the tub.

The squish of Jim's face said how much he disliked the answer, but he didn't offer any resistance. "Fine." 

"You're damn right it's fine," Sebastian growled. He got out of the car and went around to the other side to help Jim out and to his feet. At least there were good hedges; otherwise, someone would probably think he had done this and then he would be pissed.

The purely fake sense of submission made him grind his teeth together. Jim ducked his head when he was out of the car, and god. He'd been fucking terrified, and Jim had no idea exactly what he had done, he was sure of it. How much he'd scared him.

"You almost got yourself killed," he hissed, sliding an arm behind Jim's back.

That whimper was almost certainly a play for sympathy. "But I trusted you. I did. I just..."

"Oh, you conniving asshole. You didn't trust me at all, and you nearly got yourself shot, which hurts like a bitch." He locked the door with a double click and started up the stairs with Jim. Each step got him a little grumbling sound, one that said he was starting to go stiff.

"Had to be sure of you."

"Christ, Jim, I _own_ you and you had to be sure of me?" Un-fucking-believable. He kept on walking Jim forward, determined to get him into the house and then up the second flight of stairs.

Might have worked if Jim hadn't stopped solid, jaw clenched, gaze actually pretty scary. "If you own me, then be sure of one thing. I own you right fucking back."

"I killed a man for you today. I think we know where we stand." He didn't hesitate, except Jim stopped solid was a pain to deal with. "Now just get up the damn stairs so I can see what they did to you."

Whatever it was, whatever he said, it seemed to suit Jim just fine. Made his mouth curl up just a bit and then he tipped his head to the side. "Kiss me first."

"Stubborn." He leaned down, kissed Jim. "And short."

"Hmmmm." It was clearly purely abnormal, and he didn't give a shit. Jim's tongue lapped out and teased at his, and then he relaxed. "We can go upstairs now."

"Good. You can't hide injuries from me. Not if you want me to help." And that was the maddening part of it, because he wanted to help Jim, he wanted not to have to respond to a damn phone call to find him being shot at.

"And then we talk about where I've been while you were busy." Jim's lip was split and a bit bloody, but he seemed to have all of his parts still attached.

He nudged him to walk up the stairs, hands still at Jim's side. "Christ, yes, then we talk about what you've been doing."

Little pout. "Must I tell you everything?"

"Because keeping secrets worked out so well for you this time." He got him up to the bedroom, near the master bath, and then started to pull Jim's clothes off of him. They were significantly nicer than he had noticed, and he could have kicked himself for not paying proper attention. They were very likely a hell of a lot more expensive than he had considered, as well.

"Ouch." Yeah, that was definitely a play for sympathy, Jim peeking at him from beneath lowered lashes.

"You're not actually good at sounding wounded," Sebastian offered sliding fingers over Jim's newly bared shoulder. "Is this suit bespoke?"

White teeth bit into Jim's lower lip. "I like things that fit properly."

"Christ." There was that moment of not quite knowing what to do with Jim again rising up in the back of his mind as he started to unbuckle Jim's belt, kneeling down to get his shoes as well. "Did you think for a second that my gun might have a history attached to it? A history I don't want showing up in a London dockyard?"

Interesting little grimace. "Regardless of how things happened today, I'm not stupid." No, and he was restraining himself quite admirably. Sebastian could see the desire to stand up and cosh him hidden behind his eyes. "I changed the barrel on the one I took with me."

The one Sebastian had used, not so much. "With what gun?" He knew his guns well, but when he was working he didn't have a lot of time to look at them all, to keep up on the inventory of them.

He had Jim down to his pants now, and god. He was covered in cuts and bruises, and his left eye was going to be spectacularly black by morning. "I liberated a shipment of new handguns similar enough to use. That was one of the reasons the men in the warehouse were so unhappy with me. I felt that yours would be more reliable."

"That's too close. You can't -- you're not a thug, you can't get hands on." While he expected that Jim could kill just fine, had killed just fine, there was a difference between that and being frightening enough to keep there from not being a fight in the first place. He pressed his thumb against a bruise.

Jim didn't flinch. "I suppose I should have taken one of the new ones. Would have made more sense, but I liked yours."

"It's not about the gun. It's about you being safe and far away enough from this stuff that you don't get beaten up in an empty warehouse again." Of course he wouldn't flinch. "Get in the tub."

At least he followed directions, and Sebastian promised himself that once he was entirely well he'd take a damn strap to his ass until the lesson stuck. "Yes, Sebastian."

He watched Jim head into the bathroom, and turned away to gather the clothes up off of the floor, to get the guns up off the floor as well. They needed to be cleaned and rifled after he showered. Sebastian took the extra time to fold and hang his uniform. Christ, he needed to do something about that burden and soon.

Funny, how the world worked. He had wanted to make the change, he just hadn't realised exactly what was going on when he wasn't looking. Now that he did, he'd need more information before he could do anything about it. He was going to have to unravel everything Jim was up to because while Jim was apparently a natural at it, he didn't have it mastered yet. There were probably more stupid mistakes to be found, because hey, Jim was learning. Brilliant, but learning, and anyone would make rookie mistakes at a job no matter what it was.

"Sebastian." Jim was at the door, and that tentative expression was sweet. He was almost certain that it wasn't a lie in action. There was something about the way Jim stood, and he was young yet. The day would come when he could lie to Sebastian in body and word, but it wasn't here yet. "I know you are angry but... you will forgive me, won't you?"

"If you stop putting yourself in danger." That bothered him more than the fact that Jim had been keeping secrets, haring off to who the fuck knew where. He took his time unbuckling his belt, glancing up at Jim. "I thought I told you to run the bath."

Yeah. He was trouble, would keep on being trouble, but he damn sure belonged to Sebastian, and he had to admit that he belonged to Jim just as much. "I might have said at some point. I'm rather terrible at following instructions."

"Run a bath," Sebastian repeated, voice heavy as he carefully wrapped his belt around his hand.

That got him moving at least, slipping back into the bathroom and flicking the water on to run. His face was a mess of bruises, and his arm still seemed to be held unnaturally still. Sebastian wanted to pull him close, pet him, and beat him until he obeyed all at once.

He wanted the eventual lesson to hold better, so the beating would wait until he wasn't suffering from someone else's touches. Sebastian finished stripping off his clothes and then slipped back into the bathroom after Jim.

The water was hot enough that it was starting to fog the shower glass, spilling steamy and wet against the tiles, and Jim was sitting on the closed toilet. He was bare-skinned entirely, teeth nipping at his lower lip as he watched Sebastian from beneath lowered lashes.

"Bath and then sleep. And tomorrow we'll discuss what the fuck we do next," Sebastian murmured, starting toward the tub and stopping at Jim's side. He wanted to hold him close and wring his neck simultaneously.

He had a feeling that a lot of the rest of his life would be just like that, him wanting to strangle Jim and Jim somehow keeping him from doing as much with a look. God, what a mess. His Choice had been perfect, terrifyingly exquisite, because it had gotten him a hell of a handful.

At least he would never be bored.

Jim rose, carefully pressing himself to Sebastian's side. The faint nuzzle against his chest made Sebastian shake. He wanted him. It was a rising, stupid ache just then, because he wanted to fuck him on his knees in the bathtub, and it wasn't part of his plan. He pulled away and got into the tub first, tugging him in. Jim nearly tripped, body obviously tight from whatever had gone on, beyond what was immediately visible. Goddammit.

Goddammit.

It only took a moment for Jim to put himself back where he had been, pressed close to Sebastian's side. He wasn't sure if that was for comfort or something else.

"Turn around." He needed Jim to relax, needed to clean him and take a look at him again in a calm environment. "Just lean back on me."

The fact that he did as asked was too easy and it made Sebastian's brows knit. Honestly, a Jim that obeyed without challenge was a little terrifying. Make that a lot terrifying, his shoulder blades pressed against Sebastian's chest.

A moment of calm. There was a lot to be said for taking a pause, for waiting, a tempo Sebastian understood innately, patience and waiting for the time. Staying calm, that was harder, so he pressed fingers against Jim's chest and held him firmly still. The water beat down on them, hot and perfect. The silence lingered, only the sound of the spray striking their skin, the bottom of the tub. It was a good thing that Jim didn't say anything. It made it easier for Sebastian to maintain his temper.

Eventually he nudged a foot out to plug the drain so it could fill with water, still holding Jim as he shifted to settle them both into the tub. "You nearly got yourself killed." He held as still as he could manage, then, Jim pressed tightly to his chest.

"Yeah." His voice was small, quiet. "I realise." Perhaps he did. More likely he didn't, not really.

Not the way Sebastian did.

"Death is it. No more money, no more games, no more any fun at all. It's when everything stops forever. You need to be more careful." Warm water lapping up his thighs felt better, but he kept Jim still.

Silence was actually more terrifying than Jim's urge to kill and maim by far. It lingered until that dark deep voice broke it. "I miscalculated. I... you weren't ready yet. "

" _I_ wasn't ready?" He didn't go further, didn't shake Jim, just waited to see what existed past that strange statement as if it were all his fucking fault.

The shrug of his bony shoulders was felt against Sebastian's chest. "You weren't ready to know that I..." He paused, shifted his head to the side until it cracked, then repeated the motion in the other direction. "I know what happens when you show your hand too early. I..." Sebastian could sense the tension rising in him, around them, thick as the steam from the shower. "I didn't want things to end that way. I didn't want them to end."

"They're not ending. You're perfect." He pressed his fingers against Jim's chest, firmly. "At least until the bloody Russian gang bangers come to kill us both."

"Not my finest hour," Jim agreed, morose. "But I think there should be enough between me and them that we have plenty of time. I'll put a few wrenches in the works. It isn't as though they know my name or anything about me. Realistically speaking. No cameras, nothing to speak of."

"That we know of." He reached out with his foot, nudged the water off, and leaned his head back against the lip.

A slight tilt of that head seemed to be agreement. "That we know of. I'll have it looked into. Make sure of it." Probably try to kill them all if he felt it necessary.

It didn't bother Sebastian, didn't tickle at his guilt in the slightest. "How did you know it would work?"

The reluctance was thick in the air even before Jim spoke. "I didn't. I only had faith in you."

That was a weight of expectation he hadn't been waiting for from his Companion. It was understood that the bond between them was supposed to be strong, but in no way had Jim shown, honestly shown, the slightest inclination towards tradition, and Sebastian hadn't asked it of him.

He hadn't been entirely sure Jim was capable of it. At all. In the least. He still wasn't certain that was the case, but something told him it was. That he did. That Jim would show him all of the parts of him, all of the pieces that he would hide from everyone else.

He exhaled slowly, let his eyes close, and held Jim close, firm and not crushing, but close as he reached out with his toes to nudge off the water. "You need to stay safe."

Jim's head lolled back against his chest, dark eyes peering upwards at him. "I was going to tell you, eventually. I didn't want to tell you too soon and..." His teeth bit into his busted lip, hard. Fresh blood spilled over his chin, and he ignored it. "I didn't want you to send me away because I can't be stupid and boring and normal."

"I never figured you were anything but amazingly fucked up," Sebastian murmured, holding him still. The dinner with his father was a bright compressed piece of carbon for that. Fucking into Jim, jerking himself off while the head of his dick was just held in the tight rim of his ass... it wasn't something he'd forget anytime soon.

His response seemed to be enough to make Jim relax, shift until he was comfortable against him, a line between his brows. He had to hurt, quite a lot, probably. "Mmmm. You're perfect. I would have Chosen you if I could have."

That was a funny thought, and he let it slide through his mind for a moment, rubbing at Jim's upper arm. "I'm still going to spank your ass bright red when you're healed up. Tonight... rest." Cover Jim's battered body in lotion and catalogue the bruises with his hands and sleep. Sleep and hope he could come up with a way to get out of the army.

He didn't have to see Jim's face to see the pout there, even with his split, swollen lip, the bruises scattered over his cheekbone. "I cannot decide whether that is a threat or a promise."

"Both." He nudged against Jim and shifted slowly, supporting Jim as he did so. "C'mon, out of the tub now."

Out, and it hurt him to watch Jim move, his entire body clearly aching. He wondered exactly what had happened but he wasn't going to ask. Not at all, because he'd just be even more pissed if he knew. "Nnn."

He half held him up and reached out to snag one large thick towel and a bottle of massage oil. "Lay out on the bed on this, and let me take a look at you."

One thing, at least, he could be sure of; Jim didn't have modesty issues, had clearly managed to make his way through his years of training as a Companion without developing any virginal, ridiculous habits that Sebastian wouldn't have the patience to put up with. Apparently he was too busy developing criminal ones, so his Companion shuffled his way into the bedroom and stretched out as ordered.

He wanted to beat him, he really did, but the allure of rubbing oil over his ass and just putting him to bed after the high stress of killing a bunch of fucking Russians was also there. He had a pretty little ass and it was hard not to feel his dick stirring to life. "Close your eyes."

The fact that Jim obeyed was heady, as always. Just seeing him relax, entire body going limp when his sparse lashes dropped, mouth open to let loose a sigh. "Hmm."

He put a knee on the bed, leaning over Jim as he fumble fucked with the bottle top for a moment before pouring it on his hands. Reasonably, sending him to bed without supper was probably the thing to do, not fucking him into the ground, but the sheer ridiculousness of that thought was enough to make him snort even as he laid hands on Jim, drawing out an immediate groan.

A blob of oil added to his skin, and Sebastian's rough fingers slid much smoother, finding the skinny line of Jim's spine. "I learned this skill out of desperation one trip. Better not to ask."

Some things no one really wanted to know, or more like Sebastian didn't want to tell. Either way. It didn't matter because all Jim did was whine, melting into the bed for a moment before wincing when Sebastian hit a sore spot. "Ngh. I'd propose, but I think perhaps that runs the gamut of ridiculousness. Also, right now, you might well tell me no."

"Hmn, you're certainly going to keep me on my toes. I'd be bored of some mewling little creature that crumbled when I looked at him." He ran over that sore spot again with more care, earning himself another low sound that was... Right. It was adrenaline and it was Jim, all in concert. It would have been more a miracle if he hadn't ended up hard.

"They tried to teach me obedience, you know." Jim's voice was low and dark, more than usual. "That's what they wanted to teach all of us. Among other things. They didn't want us to see fulfilment as anything obtainable without a Benefactor holding our strings. They..." He stopped. "Even being abandoned and fulfilled wasn't something allowable."

He wanted to say that no one was fulfilled ever because it was human nature to want, to want and want and keep moving, like wolves. "Yeah, well. I think you've got my strings right now and not the other way around."

Jim turned his head, looked back at him, his gaze nearly pitch black. "I fooled them for a very long time. I hadn't planned to show myself so soon, but I wouldn't have hidden from you for much longer."

He leaned up to press fingers alongside Jim's spine, closer to his neck. "You need to trust me or else I can't help you."

"No one else would have their hands this close to my throat." A drawl, yes, but accompanied by a flirtatious smile that said without a doubt that he had probably planned out so many different scenarios that even this might well be one of them. "Ever."

"Then I'll take this as trust." He rubbed at the nape of Jim's neck, the touch gentle but firm, trying to ease his muscles down to some sort of sleepy. Jim would let out a sound every now and then, soft, and his muscles would twitch.

After a while, he let out a hum. "Trust is better than love. Lasts longer."

"Pretty sure they have an overlap if we're going to make a powerpoint diagram out of it." He shifted to work his way back down Jim's spine, dick hard and ignoring that he was pressing it against Jim's ass cheek as he rubbed. It just felt damn good.

It'd feel damn good flaming later on when he beat him for all of this.

Jim sighed. "I don't know that I do that properly. You're mine and I trust you. You're _mine_." There was grit in that, the sheer grind of determination.

"I'll take it," he said, amused as he let his fingers trail down to the small of Jim's back. That earned him an outright twitch and a sound of pain, and Jim turned his head the other way as though looking away would somehow help instead of drawing attention to the black bruise blossoming over his cheekbone.

He was going to look rough in the morning, which was more reason to treat him with care until he got better. Stiffness would settle in and blood would pool, and it wouldn't be his hand that did it. Damn shame. "I want to fuck you insensate."

"All right." Easy acquiescence, and that was the absolute opposite of what he wanted. He wanted the Jim who needed to set his father on fire, damn it all.

It made him pause in what he was doing, watching Jim as he leaned back a little. "I'll do it tomorrow."

Jim hummed again but he didn't move, stayed limp beneath him, eyes shut. "When you've had time to contemplate my sins."

He laughed, a quiet chuckle, and repeated the soothing gesture of pressing thumbs along Jim's spine. "I'm pissed, but I'm not going to... I'm pissed that you put yourself in danger. I'm not really contemplating your sins."

That meant that Jim moaned and then turned his head, gaze lazy and amused. "Oh, you truly are. Just not in quite the way someone else might."

He snorted then, looking down at dilated pupils. "Yeah. Yeah, You've got me there." He was contemplating what to do now that he knew, and he was contemplating beating Jim's ass when everything was healed more and Jim would know fully that it was all him. In a way, that was contemplating Jim's sins.

"I know." And he did, but he was also clearly tired, adrenaline having run its course. Sebastian couldn't keep himself from reaching upward, thumb running over the curve of Jim's ear delicately, drawing out a low, unsteady release of breath. "I know."

"I think it's time for rest." And they'd solve everything in the morning. He shifted just enough to fuss the sheets out from beneath Jim's thighs and knees to pull over them, reaching for the light with still slick fingers.

A jaw cracking yawn sounded even as the light clicked off beneath his fingers. "Y're mine," Jim slurred sleepily, and it was just as good as an _I love you_ from anyone else.

Possibly better.

* * *

It was madness to go into work and pretend everything was normal when military blokes were the gossipiest shits since little old ladies had been invented, and twice as much if you were a Benefactor.

The fact that he'd legged it midday certainly wasn't going to help any of it.

He didn't even have to pay attention to know that they were gossiping about it -- everything from bullshit about his father to him just needing a hell of a frantic shag. Thankfully none of them seemed to be particularly close to the actual truth.

The frantic shag was a strange one to him since he'd been a mostly killing rather than fucking oriented soldier over the years, but half the officers there weren't his and the unit was being refreshed so to say. He had half a dozen who only ever eyed him in a side glance and a fair half dozen more who weren't afraid of him at all.

Something about that made Sebastian want to smirk at all of them and he didn't bother resisting. Much.

He'd have to poke it with a stick sometime but it was easier to finish his reports and look for the asshole he was reporting to. And there was a brigade meeting to attend.

That was what his life was now. Staff work and fuckery.

Seriously, he had better things to do. Watch Jim stumble slowly along for one thing, because everything he had been up to yesterday showed in the way he'd required assistance out of bed that morning. Youth didn't make up for having the crap kicked out of him, at least not enough apparently.

Experience, miserably enough, helped a lot with that more than youth. He settled into a chair at the end of the table, eying the S2 and wondering for the tenth time what he'd done to be facing movement from command to _Training_ of all things. Fuck everyone who thought that was a good sign for his career, it felt like impending death.

Every single meeting was just one more nail in his coffin. Slow nails.

Extraordinarily slow boring nails.

Holding back a hefty sigh, Sebastian began to doodle in the margins, mostly tiny daggers aimed at the heads of the more annoying members of his current meeting. Boredom was low on the list of things he found bearable, and this? Got high marks for the sheer amount of apathy it caused.

He gave a quick status update. With the most men who were fresh back from the field, he had the most absences and issues to account for to the colonel, and a jailing for cycling while drunk to give a status update on. Honestly, some of his newer transfers needed to be shot or at least discharged. Something. Anything that would save him from dealing with the bullshit. God, he missed having a unit that knew what the hell they were doing and knew what to expect from him.

Most of them would be back and a lot of them were doing just fine, but Sebastian knew he wasn't going to be allowed downrange again. Not without a fight, and where was the life in that? Fucking wretchedly dull was what it was. Whatever else it was, the disaster Jim seemed to be courting was clearly the polar opposite of that. He'd be eligible for retirement before too much longer and maybe he could manage until then just so that he didn't have to hear his father bitch or even remotely know about it because the bastard would take it out on Brina somehow.

They were on slide ten by the time he could feel his soul dying. He was halfway to digging a pen into the underside of his wrist to stay awake when the door slammed open. That earned everyone's attention, a room full of military men, and not a damn one of them armed except the lunatic standing in the doorway waving around a L9A1 with a look in his eye that said blood was inevitable. Blood and death and there was a special kind of crazy about it, something that made Sebastian tense up and slide a hand around to the small of his back.

He'd lived on his gut instinct and his senses for his whole life, wound up right and ready to strike, and he knew when the man went from waving to lowering it at their colonel that it wasn't going to be a good day at all, and even if he thought the man was a jackass, if anyone was going to shoot his commander it was going to be him. He shifted from his seat slowly as the man's voice started to spike, harsh, frightened, on a runaway coaster that he knew was going to end badly for him but he pulled the trigger anyway, making a fine bloody pink and red splatter on the projector screen and then pivoted the gun at Sebastian.

Oh, fuck. Eight kinds of fuck, because hell no. No. Facing charges for having a firearm on him was a hell of a lot better than ending up fucking shot, and he wrapped his hand around the butt of his pistol and drew it.

The man still got a shot off, and he heard/felt it smack into him like a sledgehammer blow before he aimed and shot the man while staggering against the table. The room was in panic, and he... He.

He was shot.

Holy hell, he was...

"Colonel!" Yeah. Yeah, yelling, and his commander was a bloody spatter across a boring power point presentation, and Jim. Jim was at home.

He was...

He was falling and his finger came off the trigger as he fell, and nothing else mattered. Threat was done and his leg was screaming fire at him and he desperately needed to get home to Jim.

* * *

Being home alone and too sore to move was boring.

Plotting was boring.

Fretting that the idiot he'd sent to shoot Sebastian had done too fair a job? That was worse than boring. He should have tried something else, something different. He should have been patient, but he knew he couldn't have been. He knew, and now he was aching and fretting and it was a misery.

It was not worry. He was sure that it wasn't worry or fear because if Sebastian were dead then he'd just disappear because his brand was easy to cover and Sebastian had made a point of that when he'd talked to Jim on their first day, hadn't he? Of course he had. That and he knew where Sebastian's money was, had contacts for himself if he needed to disappear.

He didn't want to disappear. He would never find another... person. There was no one like Sebastian, just like there was no one like him. It was. It would be difficult.

The sound of the doorbell startled him from his moping at Sebastian's desk, shook him from his fugue and made him get to his feet. If he'd been lucky, if he'd done it right, that was the news come for him.

If he hadn't...

Well.

He knew he still looked bruised, a solid black and purple mark across a cheekbone and a busted lip the most obvious marks, but he pulled himself up straight and tall, rolled his head to hear his neck crack, and made his way down the stairs.

He took a moment to peer through the peephole before sliding free the top bolt and then the deadbolt. It was Sebastian's slightly horse faced sister.

"Jim?"

Drawing in a deep breath, he opened the door slowly, peering outwards. "Sabrina. You've never come here before."

"No, I haven't. What..." She was looking at his split lip, trying to work out what had happened other than the obvious one, that her brother's temper had gotten the better of them both. "I need to talk to you and then we need to leave and go to the hospital."

Blinking slowly, he looked at her, face morphing into something that he hoped was... delicate. Or whatever. "What's wrong? Something happened to Sebastian, what's wrong?" If there was a high pitched tinge to his voice, it was only what she expected. After all, if they were headed to the hospital and not to jail...

Well.

Maybe it went all right.

"There was a shooting at his base. Why don't you grab a coat and put on your shoes." She was peering past him, eyes sharp and fast and scanning, taking in everything she could despite the circumstances.

Sebastian had bitched about their father, the way that they had been raised, the way his sister had been pigeonholed and slotted in to suit what he expected. Had said that he thought their mother died strictly as a way to get away from the son of a bitch, and Jim didn't doubt it. One day, he was honestly going to set the man on fire or something equally entertaining.

He didn't think Sebastian would mind.

"What." Because standing there wasn't what she expected. Fainting, maybe. Who knew? "I. Yes. Of course." Of course, and he was standing there in an overlarge t-shirt belonging to Sebastian, jeans and bare feet. "Is, is Sebastian...?"

"In surgery. As his Companion, it's best for you to be there." He wasn't sure if she meant best for Sebastian or best for Jim.

Yeah. Yeah, yes, and Jim blinked slowly, then allowed his knees to go weak beneath him, allowed himself to fall. She was right there, then, all sharp eyes still, but then going misty as though she expected the reaction. "Oh. Oh."

"He'll be fine. He was shot in the leg, it's..." She half held him, trying to leverage him to his feet. "It's best for you to be there."

"Okay. Okay." Okay, and he stood, stiff and aching, and licked his lips. "Okay." So obviously he hadn't killed Sebastian. That was of the good, and Jim didn't doubt that the man had died in the doing of it. He was still going to kill the man's wife even though he had promised he wouldn't. Just because he could. Because the man had shot his Sebastian. That was enough for him.

He shuddered a little as he stood fully upright and turned away from her as she asked, "Jim. What did he do to you?"

"He?" Jim paused, turning to look at her, and he felt fire licking at his nerve ends for just a second. "Sebastian would never. _Never_." Or he might, but if he did, it would be because Jim wanted it. "I was walking and ran into a ruffian who thought slapping about a ponce seemed like a good idea until I got hold of a brick and coshed him properly."

She watched him, eyes tracking, and then gave a firm nod, one gesture, no hesitance. "That... doesn't surprise me. That sounds like something my brother would do." And she was checking his fingernails with her eyes for grime, for blood, and Jim was surprised to note that yes, there was a little but it had been a long day and he'd spent as much of it rolling around hugging a pillow as was possible, arms stretched out onto it to unstiffen his shoulders. "I'll wait here while you get changed."

Changed, no. No, he'd just grab his coat, and a pair of socks. Better to look a mess than over prepared, after all, and he nodded, moving to climb the stairs, all stiff limbs and aching muscles.

It only took a moment to pull on socks and grab a pair of trainers, snagging one of Sebastian's hoodies instead of anything of his own. It was tacky, honestly, but Sebastian liked them and Jim hadn't had time to burn them as yet.

He grabbed, too, a change of clothes for Sebastian, quickly pulling a shirt and a pair of pants out of the closet and stuffing it into one of Sebastian's hundred stupid little go bags that he could grab at any time. His uniform would've been ruined, and that was a Companionable thing to think of wasn't it? The kind of thing someone would think of instead of wanting to kill people in revenge for doing what he had asked. 

Well. No one could be perfect.

For a moment, he stood in the bedroom, looked around, and then he turned and headed back to Sabrina.

She was checking something on her phone when he came down the stairs and flicked it off as soon as he was at the bottom step, reaching for her keys. "He really will be all right. He's strong."

"Of course he is." If he weren't, he wouldn't be Jim's. He'd just be an obstacle and that shot would have been to his head. "Let's go."

She led the way, and Jim only absently locked the door behind him while she started up the car. Silence seemed the best way to handle it. At least then he seemed more like he was fretting and less like he was plotting the demise of someone.

Hopefully.

The trip was short, strained, and Sabrina drove the car with an aggression that was not entirely unexpected. After all, she was related to Sebastian and she was so clearly displeased with how her life had gone. A shame, really; Jim suspected that she might have been amazing, given the opportunity. Not Sebastian amazing, but really... who was?

He was allowed to dote now that he was sure his plans had gone the way he wanted them to, though he kept up the fragile facade as she parked and they navigated through to the visitor section.

Whatever the case, she got them through, all with a few looks and words, and hmm. It was clearly genetic, that attitude, all sharp _now_ and expecting to be answered in the affirmative. Jim did like that in a person, at least when said person wasn't denying him whatever it was that he wanted.

He wanted to see Sebastian, even if he was in the recovery area, intensive care, wherever it was. Didn't matter. He wanted. Sebastian belonged to him, and he _wanted_. Wanted what was his, and had to clasp his hands together tightly, fingers clenched, to keep himself from making the demand.

They had to wait, though, in a room filled with plastic seats and out of date magazines. He needed to distract himself, see what use he could make of himself. It was a shame, in a way, that she'd come to him when Sebastian was still in surgery. Mostly because he lacked patience and he wasn't good at waiting. There were other people there, looking worn and tired, watching the news as though it were something interesting instead of blah America blah blah Middle East blah Oil blah Terrible Atrocities blah. He curled into a chair, arm wrapped around one knee, and drew himself in, trying to be patient. Failing, but making the attempt all the same.

He wanted to fuss with his phone, start working on issues after his run in with the Russians, but he didn't want to break the game he was playing so he started to work out plots. It was boring, sitting there, everyone's blather and emotions swirling around the room, annoying him. Sabrina got up periodically and paced, back and forth, asking questions, coming back to stare at him, bother him. His teeth were grinding by the time she came back and gestured for him, expecting him to come when called. Sebastian should be grateful that Jim liked him or he'd be less one sister.

He could be grateful later, once he was on his feet. He heeled to her, angry and tense as they headed to the, well, Sebastian. He didn't care what room it was so long as he got to see him.

What he had expected was... perhaps less severe than what he had gotten, and just considering it made him shiver at the sight, because he looked a fright, a complete mess. All pallor and his leg was covered, beginning to look faintly pink underneath. There was a doctor, some sort of military physician, and he was talking, but all Jim could see was Sebastian, pale and unconscious. Not disgustingly chipper as he'd left for work that morning, all vicious teeth in a wide disarming smile. There were tubes going into his arm, and he was so... so pale.

In all his life, Jim had never regretted anything. He had never once felt bad about anything he had done, not in memory.

This. He felt... Perhaps he found this regretful. It was an unfamiliar emotion so he couldn't say for sure. He wanted to fast forward past this, months forward, and not have to experience any of it. So perhaps that was regret, not wanting to feel it just then. Or ever. "He should be coming out from the anaesthesia."

Yes, groggy and a mess. Jim ground his teeth together, lips compressed. He could have come up with another method of getting Sebastian free. Perhaps he should have been patient. Perhaps... but it was far too late for that and it made him irritated with himself that he was having second thoughts. He'd made an excellent decision and probably made Sebastian a hero at the same time which would be an excellent deflection. Sebastian started stirring slowly, opening his eyes.

"Oh, thank God." Sabrina blurted it, and stepped up to the bed, leaving Jim at the foot of it. "Basty, sweetheart..."

"Ffffr?" He smacked his lips, eyes rolling in his head like he was fighting sleep.

Her hand was on his Sebastian, and he didn't like that. Stepping forward, Jim leaned close. "You've gone and gotten yourself shot, Sebastian. Badly, might I add. I suspect they're giving you good drugs, so that's something in any case."

"Fhrrrr?" Sebastian squinted at Jim, and inhaled slowly. "Hey. Got 'm?"

"Uhm, not sure, the media is clambering everywhere." Sabrina shrugged.

"I don't doubt that you did." And if he didn't, well, Jim would kill him before he could talk. "You'll be fine."

"Shot my leg. Splintered..." He waved his hand a little, more of a jerking gesture than the blasé high hand wave he'd seen Sebastian give before.

"Femur." Jim couldn't help the shortness in his voice. "There's. They'll have put in a rod, and screws. To keep it stable and... and such."

"You're gonna get bored waiting for me," Sebastian mused, his eyes jerking a little as he struggled to focus. "Already bored."

It was true. Sebastian would probably worry about what he would do while bored, too. "You're worth waiting for."

He was quiet and contemplative for a moment, and then, just when Jim thought he'd drifted off, he asked, "Leg's really that bad?"

"We haven't talked to the doctors yet." As if they needed to talk to anyone. Sebastian knew, Jim knew. Sabrina knew even if she didn't want to say it aloud. It was obvious, patently and categorically.

He looked quizzically, druggedly, down at his leg before he pawed at the bit of hospital gown that was covering his thigh. Jim imagined that was what housecats looked like when they were high. With a sound of irritation, he reached out and took Sebastian's fingers. "Don't touch."

"That bad, then." It seemed to be enough affirmation for him, and he let his hand rest loosely on his thigh.

"Well, not good. Yes. All right, yes, no one's said anything, but I expect it'll be a lot of time lying around. I'll ride you," he offered, giving him something like a smile. "When you're not just out of surgery, anyhow."

"Mmmhm. Brina? Need you to get Jim signed up for driving lessons. Meant to do that so you can crash a really 'spensive car sometime."

For a long moment, he thought about it, then leaned in close. "How expensive, exactly?"

"Well, rather not you crash the Aston Martin, but..." He grinned goofily, and seemed to maybe be trying to conjure up numbers but possibly forgot to finish his sentence as well.

Without himself even willing it, Jim reached out and touched his fingertips to Sebastian's face, palm curving down to his jaw. "Go back to sleep."

He smiled back at Jim, expression warming, and he seemed to be fighting valiantly against drowsiness, but the fight wasn't going to last long at all with his eyes bouncing like that. "Right."

Right, and that was it. Jim might as well have hit him in the head with a hammer. Not that he would, particularly now that he knew how unpleasant he found Sebastian being injured. It was surprising, but he continued stroking his face slowly, giving that fact serious consideration.

He supposed he'd chosen Sebastian. It was more than the ingrained training; he was extremely fond of him, and Sebastian was simply never going to be injured again. It was as straightforward as that. He'd have to be healthy forever.

"Well."

That caught his attention and he turned his head, tilting his chin and looking at Sabrina expectantly. "Yes."

"I've never seen him so happy." It was an unexpected statement. "And he's nearly had his leg blown off."

"He's mine." There was a vehemence there that was determined, obstinate. "He's mine, and I'll destroy anything that tries to hurt him." Except himself.

"If he doesn't do it himself first, yes." She looked softer and thoughtful in response to that vehemence, and maybe that was good. Maybe she was on his side. He would take it, take whatever he could get, and it would make it easier if she were. He had plans, and he was clearly going to need guidance in order to keep this and his preferred... entertainments separate, but they had time for that. He was sure of it. "I'll go ask the doctor when he'll be moved to a private room." He was a Benefactor after all. There were certain protocols. There were benefits.

Thank god.

"I'm sure he'll be grateful." Jim should probably be doing it, but...

But.

He clearly was still fresh from the Companion Centre, and Sabrina probably was imagining him picking a fight with some nurse. It saved him the trouble. Instead he could sit down and watch Sebastian sleep and plot. Plan. Make decisions.

...Worry.

* * *

He was still bedridden, wheelchair ridden, and it was driving him completely bloody fucking stir crazy. He'd contemplated putting weight on the leg a time or two but then Jim had threatened to pull his stitches out with a fork if he were interested in mutilating himself, and well. That was a deterrent.

For now.

In another week or three, maybe not so much. By then, he might be willing to do just about anything to get up and fucking move.

"Stop sulking. You're unpleasant when you sulk."

"I'm running out of things to read and my temporary C.O. is coming by to see me this afternoon."

Jim's eyebrows did a thing, complicated, somehow weirdly opposite the way his eyes gleamed, lit up from the inside. Sebastian idly thought he'd have been burned at the stake as a witch a few hundred years ago. "Fine. I'll entertain you then."

"Just keep me distracted long enough that I'm calm when the new commander gets here. I don't want to undo the work of my last statement because everything fucking hurts."

With a huff, Jim wandered off and left Sebastian to his own devices, the little fucker, and that just made him even more annoyed until Jim yelled at him from the loo. "Stop fucking sulking!"

"I'm not, goddammit, you get your leg shot and then cut open and these fucking pins itch." He laid back down with a growl and pulled a pillow over his face briefly. If he tried suffocating himself, he'd inevitably pass out before he actually died. It would at least be entertainment.

Movement on the bed made him yelp. "Shut up. You're going to like this or else."

It made him take the pillow off his face, looking frantically at Jim. "What're you planning?"

Jesus, that look was all teeth and scariness. It went straight to his dick, which at least did make him forget about the itching. Mostly. "I'm going to fuck you until you shut up."

"Oh." Oh, good oh, deep noise, deep into his balls and he shoved the pillow under his head, much more interested. Oh because Jim still had on his stupidly expensive t-shirt but he had ditched his pants somewhere along the way, and he was reaching for Sebastian's dick. The fleeting thought that he hadn't gotten the opportunity to beat his ass for him was there, too, but that could wait until he could stand up on his own. He wasn't going to forget.

He could let that linger for a long time and this was much more important, Jim's fingers wrapping tight around his dick and the muscles of his legs looking so familiar.

Yeah, okay. Okay, this could certainly be something that worked for them, and he wanted to get his hands on Jim. He did, but Jim had one hand on Sebastian's prick and another hand behind him. He could hear a slick kind of sound, and damn, but he wanted to be able to see. Fuck.

He shifted, raised up on his elbows because he could at least get that far even if he couldn't move his leg for traction.

"Don't get in my way." Snapped, yes, but Jim leaned in and put his mouth on his dick, and god, yeah. Yes, that was amazing, of course it was, and the little fucker knew it.

"Not getting in your way," he promised, voice falling to a soft groan as he let his hands wander down to touch Jim's shoulders loosely. They were tight, hunched a little as he squirmed, and Sebastian could feel the way he moved, a rhythm that was off, movements almost in tandem but not quite. Just a little damn frustrating, to be half a beat off of a really good groove, but he wasn't going to argue, not when Jim had teeth framing his dick. He wasn't above using them, after all, and he was moaning like there was nothing he could have wanted more than being able to suck Sebastian's brains out of his dick. Sebastian gave up, held still and let himself just breathe, feel, stretching a leg slightly. "Fuck, Jim."

Hollowing cheeks, and unh. Yeah. Yeah, that didn't exactly cut down on the way his leg itched and fucking hurt, but yeah. That was good, that was better, and then Jim took his mouth away. He wanted to yell and pull at him, but he was moving closer, hand stroking slick over his cock.

He was getting into a pattern and he couldn't help the slow moan he gave when Jim's fingers crept between his legs to cradle his balls. "Yeah..."

"Yeah?" Jim sounded drugged, cheeks flushed, mouth open. His lips were red, swollen, and Sebastian leaned in and kissed him with a biting force, earning himself a sharp nip at his lower lip.

"Get up here and ride me." He wanted more than lips and fingers and the threat of teeth against his skin.

"Think I can do it without hurting your leg?" Not that he cared. Sebastian was pretty sure he didn't give a fuck if it hurt him so long as he didn't actually damage him.

"I just won't move." He grinned because that was almost lazy, just lying there and fucking Jim through virtue of Jim moving his hips.

God almighty but he looked smug as fuck. "We'll see about that." The motion of it, the way he straddled him, was actually pretty careful, all things considered. "Make some effort, then."

He reached down, got a hand on Jim, holding him at the hip as he reached down to steady his dick. It was enough, because Jim shifted, glanced back, and then daaaamn. Close. Very close, but no cigar, and he groaned. Dammit. Then Jim moved again and he could feel it when Jim started opening around his prick, could see it on his face the second he pushed deep, and god. That was. Fuck.

That was amazing, and he struggled not to thrust up with his good leg because it would just make everything hurt. He didn't want to hurt, he wanted to focus on that hot clench, on the way that Jim moaned low in his throat and arched his back to get him deeper. "Nnnnn, yesssssss." That hiss said a lot, god. "Too long. I need you to fuck me and you can't, you fucker."

Fingers pressed hard against his stomach, Jim squirmed as he tried to adjust himself to riding Sebastian. "Yeah, missed that..."

Missed it a lot, and Jim shuddered then groaned again. "God, this gets you deep." Very, and it made his leg ache, but who the fuck even cared? No one, that was who, not him, not when he had his hands on Jim's hips and Jim was starting to rise up, one balled fist in the centre of Sebastian's chest. It was slow, so slow, and Sebastian laid his head back down on the pillow, watching Jim and fighting the urge to move. He sucked in a deep breath, and Jim grinned at him, all sharp edges, and squeezed tight around his dick as he slid back down on him, fuuuck.

Pushed and shoved, moved himself up and down, and Sebastian reached a hand out to start stroking Jim's dick.

"No!" No, and he smacked at Sebastian's hand and tightened around him again, pushing as far down as he could go and just... god, fuck.

"No? But I like getting you hard." He let his hand fall to the side then because he wasn't going to fight Jim. For one thing, it'd end up hurting like a mother. For another...

"I want to come on your dick." Well. That was certainly fantastic incentive to keep himself still, then, and let Jim set the pace to boot.

"Just my dick?" He didn't think he'd ever done that before, not if he couldn't move his legs.

Jim bared his teeth and rose slowly before settling down again. "Yes, and I'll come all over you and rub it in." Because he could.

He shifted, flexing his core muscles a little because it was at least something, at least a little purchase of his body against Jim's. "Fuck, fuck..."

Laughter during sex was a good thing. It was, even if there seemed to be a kind of mania to it, a frantic edge. "That's right. Fuck, fuck, yes. Yes." Fuck, because that was... yeah, tightening around his cock as he rose up again, and then even tighter when he pushed down. Jesus Christ, it had obviously been far too long.

He felt squirmy, wanted to thrust, wanted to do more than flex his stomach and press his head down against the pillows, wriggling a little in a way that made Jim laugh again. "Too long, fuck, you feel so good, so good, Jim."

"Well, if... nnn. If we'd done it before, I'd have broken you a bit worse than... Fuck, okay, yes, that, oh!" Oh, yeah, and Jim reached out, took one of his hands and pressed it back so that he could feel where his dick was buried in him.

He was going to come just from feeling that, Jim's tight asshole stretched out to accept him, and the way the skin felt when he turned his hand to try to push in a finger. That got him some serious attention, Jim leaned forward, one hand on his chest, yelling and biting his own lip and letting Sebastian in.

A little more, something like a thrust when he couldn't move and wasn't being allowed to jerk Jim off. "How's that feel, huh? You're so fucking tight..."

He was whining, low and deep in his throat, leaning in closer and he caught Sebastian's mouth in a kiss that was so ridiculously fucking soft that he barely felt it. "Yeah. Yeah, yeah, that, do that, do that..."

"Oh." He kept thrusting, quick shallow motions with his finger, and leaned in closer to kiss Jim, to get that extra contact because the angle was nice. The angle was good, and Jim's dick was rubbing against his belly, leaving behind a sticky trail as he worked himself on Sebastian, one hand pressed to his chest, the other clenched to keep him from reaching down and jerking himself off.

"That's it, that's it, Jim..." It was almost as hot and gorgeous as pressing just barely into Jim and jerking himself off with the head of his dick in Jim's hole. This was closer and less desperate; Jim's hair smelled a bit like liquorice, something expensive. He was making noises, sounded so fucking close, and Sebastian couldn't wait for the day when his fucking leg was heeled and he could flip Jim over and fuck into him like a goddamned jackhammer.

His mouth was open, hot, panting breaths washing over Sebastian's skin, and ngh. God, yeah, his eyes shut tight and his entire body went tense, thighs tightening around Sebastian's hips.

He moaned, wishing he could come but enjoying the tight wild clutch of Jim's ass around his cock, the feeling of his body weight against his chest, and he moved his other arm to hold Jim close and comfortable, flexing his core just a little to get _more_. Get a little deeper, get closer to coming even as he felt Jim shiver against him. "Bastian..." Just his name and then he started to rock his hips again, slow, easy.

A good pattern, a steady pattern, and Sebastian eased his finger out before it got sore for Jim, and he clutched at Jim's left ass cheek instead.

"Mmm. You like that?" Ridiculous questions. "You do. You do, and I looooove how that feels. You belong to me." His hand was steadily rubbing come over Sebastian's skin. "Mine."

"Yours," Sebastian agreed, just on edge. "Yeah. This is great and I'm yours."

His, and then Jim leaned down and bit him on the shoulder, and that was it. That was all she wrote. Orgasm hit him so hard that he was pretty sure his brain quit working and his spine liquified. He'd never done so little thrusting and gotten off so brilliantly in his life, even if he thought that lying still for so long wasn't safe. He petted at Jim's back, shuddering a little in the aftermath. "God I missed that."

"Hmmmm. As did I. So get better, and don't jeopardise your recovery or I swear I'll make you regret it." That was a pretty believable threat, all things considered.

"Mmm. Resting. Commander is still coming by." And now they stunk of sex and had less time to get ready, but Sebastian gave zero fucks. He was already pretty sure of what his CO would be saying, and he was incredibly settled about it. It would give him time to do what needed doing. Time to pin Jim into place, because damn sure he'd go wild if he didn't. Sebastian wasn't fool enough to think he could hold him down for long, but long enough for them to have lines drawn, things that would keep him from falling into chaos and... and worse.

He was mad if he thought he could do more than try to funnel the whirlwind, steer and guide and protect. He was just lucky their interests were so tightly aligned. "Suppose I can throw on a robe."

"Hmmm." Maybe that was agreement but more like it was Jim leaning down to lick a line between his nipples. "If you must. We could refuse to answer the door."

"I might as well start the out processing sooner rather than later," he countered, making it something Jim wanted. Even if he wanted that licking to continue.

The answer was a put upon sigh as Jim rose, slinging himself off of Sebastian easily and standing to stretch. "All right, then. As you like."

"We can go back to this after he's gone." Sebastian sighed, and laid there half dead and boneless from coming, mostly hoping he'd die before he had to get up.

Well.

Only mostly.

Right up until Jim smacked the hell out of his hip. "Stop thinking whatever you're thinking, it displeases me." Bossy little shit.

"Mmmph, I was basking in the fucking afterglow, but I think that's gone." He sat up and shifted to move himself over to the wheelchair -- a dicey proposition, but he'd have to do it anyway to piss.

"For fuck's sake, lie there until I come back. He's not due for another quarter hour." Which meant he'd probably be there within the next five minutes.

"Fine." He laid back, stretching to pull a pillow up under his shoulders. "I'll make a nest and stay here."

"Where you belong." Yeah, and damned if Jim didn't sound so pleased with himself that his head ought to be thrice the size.

"Which is right where you say I should be." It seemed to please Jim that Sebastian understood his place in the world, and he knew better than to fight him, not after mind-losing sex.

Besides. It was better to nudge Jim gently in and out, away from the bigger troubles, or at least towards something more careful than he'd been planning before now. Jim leaned in, rubbed his nose across Sebastian's cheekbone, and then marched himself into the bathroom, the sounds of water following.

He mentally started a countdown to the doorbell sounding. Fuck it, what was the worst that could happen, caught post canoodling and being embarrassed about it because it was some C.O. he didn't give a shit about? It wasn't as though he wouldn't be able to smell it from however many feet away, honestly.

A moment later, Jim marched back in, still naked to his toes, but he had a warm flannel in hand to hand off to Sebastian and he seemed entirely pleased with himself. "Here. But not too much. I enjoy you smelling like what we just did."

"We can make me smell again when he's gone." He wiped it over his belly, around his dick and behind his balls, wiping himself off just as the doorbell rang.

Oh, hell. He knew that look, and it was dangerous. It meant that Jim was going to do something crazy, and when he flitted out of the bedroom without snagging so much as a towel, the best Sebastian could do was sigh and start pulling a blanket off of the bed to more or less wrap himself up so he'd be semi-respectable.

All right, not respectable at all, but what else was there to do? Jim was going to open the door bare ass naked, and all Seb could do was wait and hope it was over soon.

At the very least it wasn't like they could toss him out on his ass for conduct unbecoming, letting Jim do that. Not when tossing him out was the purpose of the visit, after all.

He waited, heard the door being swung open, and prayed that the next sound wasn't a gunshot.

As it happened, it wasn't. Not that he'd have expected it to be, in all honesty, but it was sort of a relief. God alone knew that Jim was enough to drive a man to it when he wanted said man driven to it. Or worse.

He just hoped the lingering silence meant they'd be coming up the stairs soon so he could address his officer and get on with it.

By the time his CO made it, the look on his face still hadn't changed significantly from the sheer twitchiness of his expression. Yeah, well. Being met at the door by a naked man who smelled like sex probably wasn't in his plans for the day. Sort of like being met by a mostly naked man in a wheelchair. "Colonel Moran."

"Sir." He cleared his throat, expression carefully tense. "Apologies, it's hard to even get into the chair right now."

"I can tell." Yeah, that wry tone of voice said a lot without saying anything at all. "I'm sure you can guess why I'm here. No particular reason to hide it."

"I'm being drummed out because my leg's wrecked." His leg was wrecked but by god he could still get his dick up and that made life decent. Sure, rainy weather was going to be a hellish bitch, but he was still getting laid, now wasn't he?

"You'll go out with a full pension. It's an honest shame. You're a good officer." Yeah, but not _good_ good so at least he'd be entertained by his future as a criminal.

"Shame we had an officer go looney and try to shoot up a daily," he countered. He ran a hand back through his hair. "How's that trial coming? I want to testify."

Clearing of the throat as the man shuffled his feet. Sebastian didn't bother asking him to sit. "You know how these things go. Time consuming."

"Did he even regain consciousness?" Sebastian asked, curious. "He killed another fine officer who we both served with downrange."

Yeah, that expression. He knew that expression. "They're doing all they can, of course." Of course.

"Washing his central lines with floor muck, I hope." Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest. "So do I need to sign the papers?"

He pulled the folder from beneath his arm and handed it over, reaching up and taking a pen from a hidden pocket. "And then you're out of the army. Sorry it had to be this way."

"Sorry I didn't shoot him sooner." He reached to take the pen from this officer he only vaguely knew, hadn't ever served with. It was a quiet disconnected end to a glorious career, better than rotting away in paperwork and training forever.

The fact that he was sort of grateful for having his thigh bone fucked up by a bullet was probably a little sick. Maybe even a lot. "Of course there won't be any charges for the weapon you had. We're sort of grateful that you did. Unofficially."

"Habit from being in the A.O. I really hadn't been back long." He sighed, scanning over the paperwork quickly. "And I won't be going back. Haven't thought much about it."

"Well. There's plenty of time to figure out where to go next. You've the added advantage of being a Benefactor so a fair number of doors should open for you, and of course there will be assistance for you from the Army." Not that he needed any of that.

Still, he needed to seem like he needed it. Sebastian sighed, nodding as he marked the right spots, still reviewing the document with care. "I have an idea or two. Contract work, requirements development. MORS stuff. I'll manage."

That little smirk told him what was coming next before his CO even opened his mouth. "And you've clearly got your hands full with your Companion, I'd say."

"He's a good Companion. Just what I need right now." He didn't need any more leering than Jim had probably already earned by being nearly naked or worse. He'd wonder where Jim was except he was probably making himself a coffee. Well, or showing his naked ass to the neighbours, could be either one.

Once the last papers were signed, he handed them over and that was that, over and done. "Well. You're aware of how to get in touch with us as needed, of course."

"Of course." There'd be a little more tidying out to do but now he was free. Waiting for other paperworks and other forms to be done, and the trial if the man ever came awake again.

"Then I'll show myself out." The man gave him a salute and a smile. "Hopefully I'll manage to avoid your rather, ah. Yes. Well."

"He keeps me on my toes," Sebastian said, half explanation and half warning.

The man nodded solemnly. "I'll expect him to be lounging about naked all over the shop, then. Good luck."

And that was that.

Done and dusted, the end of a glorious career snuffed out with the stroke of a pen. Sebastian sighed, gave the man a careful salute, and watched him leave.

Well.

That was that. New life ahead. Doubtless a criminal one of epic proportion because Jim didn't do small things, no.

He waited until he heard the door slam shut and relaxed his head back against the edge of the wheelchair, waiting for Jim. It didn't take long, just a handful of minutes, really, long enough for him to close and lock the door and make his way back to Sebastian.

For a moment, he lingered in the door, head tilted to the side. "Well, then."

"That's done. He'll file the paperwork, I'll get a small pension, and I'm free and clear of the army. Not the best way out, but..." He shrugged his shoulders.

That slow smile spread, and a fire lit somewhere in the depths of his Companion's eyes. "But it leaves you clear for me."

Conveniently.

He leaned back, watching Jim, appraising the moment and the fire in his eyes. "What do you want to do first with this world?"

That lick of his lower lip just made Sebastian pissed that he couldn't get up and shag him into shivers, but he reckoned it was just a sign of things to come. "I want to watch something burn."


End file.
